Year 3: The End of the Light
by Silvermoon42
Summary: Hitsugaya Toshiro has been sent to study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, on a mission to eliminate the Dark Lord. But with new complications in the form of a certain Boy Who Lived developing new powers, the mission and many lives are at stake. This is the sequel to Year 1: The Utterly Despicable Stone and Year 2: The Chamber of Delightful Coolness.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! Welcome to the third in a series of crossovers between Harry Potter and Bleach. If you have not read the first two ( _Year 1: The Utterly Despicable Stone_ and _Year 2: The Chamber of Delightful Coolness_ ) I suggest reading them first. This will not make much sense if you don't have the background.**

"Talking" _Thinking_ _"Speaking to/from zanpakuto"_ **"Speaking in Japanese"**

 **This takes place in the third book of Harry Potter and after the Winter War in Bleach. There will be spoilers.**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _*Previously on Year 2: The Chamber of Delightful Coolness*_

 _"I know you don't believe it now, but the stories you were told are not true. With time you shall see that. Good bye. I will see you in September."_

 _He turned on his heel and walked briskly away, following the faint trail of Harry's reiatsu. Even with a restrainer on, it was impossible to completely mask it. He saw the boy getting into a blue car with a very large man and boy and a very thin woman._

So these are the Dursleys. _He followed the car from far above. Athena met him there, and he let her land on his shoulder. "We're following Potter home," he said to her. "I don't like it, but I have orders."_

 _She chirped._

 _"I still don't understand you, but that's fine. You'll be my only friend while I'm there. Not that I had many at Hogwarts." He paused to shunpo forward. "Sorry. You'd better get used to that."_

 _Athena bit his ear._

 _"Hey! Fine, I'll give you warning next time. Just don't do that!" Athena resettled her wings._

 _He watched the car wind its way through London traffic and sighed. "I know he ordered me to do this because it's my fault he developed powers, but I'm a Captain! There_ has _to be something more productive for me to do."_

 _Deciding that he could just follow the boy's spiritual ribbon, he landed on the roof of an ornate building to wait. "Peace is so boring." He watched a human wearing a red uniform and a large, shaggy black hat march back and forth. People were gathered not far away, taking pictures of him. "What are they doing?"_

 _He stood and told Athena, "You'd better get off now. I don't think the humans would take kindly to seeing you floating in midair."_

 _She chirped and took off. Toshiro jumped down to the ground. He watched the human in red pace. "Well, as long as I'm here, I might as well look around." He turned and shunpoed off._

* * *

 _From across the street, a tall figure wearing muggle clothes watched a small boy with white hair jump from the roof, land lightly on the ground, and disappear moments later._

 _"Now, what are you?" he murmured softly. "Little boy, what secrets do you hold?" He turned and vanished amongst the crowd of people._

* * *

The stars in the sky above number four, Privet Drive, were barely visible. Toshiro lay on his back, one hand cushioning his head, and stared up at the dark dome above, breathing deeply and evenly. The heat of the summer day still lingered in the roof tiles, warm to the touch.

 _The Great Serpent should be there,_ he mused, tracing the nonexistent constellation with his free hand.

 _"I wonder,"_ his zanpakuto spirit, Hyourinmaru, murmured sleepily, _"if the stars in Soul Society and on Earth are the same. If we could travel to them, where would we be?"_

Toshiro put his hand down on his stomach and shrugged. _"That is not our concern, though. We are responsible for the souls of Earth, not those amongst the stars."_

 _"But if we were!"_ Hyourinmaru drew in a long, deep breath. _"What a life that would be! I would like that, to see the stars."_

 _"So would I. Maybe someday. But for now we will have to be content with watching them from down here."_

Hyourinmaru settled down again, and in the renewed silence Toshiro began to hear sounds: creaking and rustling. Curious, he pushed himself to his feet and walked down the sloped roof, braced one foot on reishi-hardened air, and slid carefully in the open window. Inside the large room, he saw Harry had begun his nightly homework ritual, lying on his stomach in bed with a sheet drawn over his head to minimize the glow of the flashlight that he was using to read his textbook. He barely looked up from the text as Toshiro wandered over to briefly read over his shoulder then sit in the chair by the desk. He watched as Harry looked over the page, pausing on a small paragraph before writing something down.

"History?" Toshiro asked.

"Yup."

There was a short silence, in which the only sounds were the scratching of Harry's eagle-feather quill on the parchment. Finally, bored, Toshiro got up and went to the window but paused at the unexpected sound of the boy's voice.

"The ice – that's the basilisk, right?"

Toshiro froze, memories rushing through his mind like torrents of water. Finally he blinked them away and twisted to sit in the window, nodding. "Yes," he answered cautiously. "Why?"

Harry tapped the end of the quill against his chin. "I was just wondering why you carry it around."

Toshiro fingered the band of ice around his arm. "It was her last request." He stared down at it for a moment more before adding softly, "Besides, she isn't dead."

Two emerald eyes were widened with surprise, but Toshiro didn't elaborate. He dropped his hand away and stood. "I'll be on the roof." With that, he disappeared. Harry stared out the now-empty window for a moment before going back to his homework.

* * *

There were no Hollows in this city!

Toshiro shunpoed forward again, reappearing above a murky river. He glared down at it and the small shapes that were boats. How _many wizards live here, and yet you can't attract just_ one _Hollow! What good are you?_

Hyourinmaru laughed in his inner world. _"Relax, master. Go down, enjoy the sights and the people."_

 _"Right,"_ Toshiro muttered. _"Getting pushed and yelled at is great fun."_

 _"Then don't go in your gigai. People can just pass right through you, then."_

 _"And then a wizard would see me and I'd have a huge problem on my hands. No, I won't go down any further than this."_

 _"You did it the first day in this city."_

 _"Yeah, and you remember how that turned out."_

They both winced. _"Perhaps you'd better get your gigai,"_ Hyourinmaru agreed.

Ten minutes later found Toshiro in his gigai, having pulled it from his trunk. Luckily he could get it out of the magically-shrunken space – how it happened he had no idea, but he was just glad it worked.

 _"The adjustments Kurotschuchi made are surprisingly comfortable,"_ Toshiro said, enjoying his new height. Hyourinmaru chuckled.

Toshiro was winding his way through the streets when he came across a shop selling televisions, all playing the same news broadcast. He stopped to listen, curious.

"The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous," an anchor was saying. "A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately." A picture was shown on the screens of a tall, gaunt man with greasy, stringy hair and a wild glint in his eyes. He was being held back by at least two security guards.

"Disgraceful," someone muttered near him. He looked up to see a tall man wearing a wide-brimmed hat and darkly-tinted sunglasses.

"Why?" Toshiro asked. "What did he do?"

The corners of the man's mouth turned up. "Not him. The prison. He was being held in the most secure facility in the world and yet he somehow disappeared."

"You think the guards let him escape?"

The man glanced down at him. "You are very sharp. But no, that is not what I think. The guards, despite all their faults, would not have let him escape." The man turned away. "Have a good day."

Toshiro repeated the nicety as the man disappeared into the crowd.

It wasn't until much later that he realized the news broadcast had never said the name of the prison.

* * *

When Toshiro slipped back into the house after changing his gigai, he found Harry sulking in his room, an incredibly irritated look on his face.

"Couldn't find anything on your essay?" he asked, making Harry jump.

"Don't sneak up on me!"

Toshiro paused, sitting on the window. "All right…what's wrong?"

"You assume something's wrong." Harry glared at the Shinigami captain.

"Am I wrong?"

"N-no, you're right. It's just…my aunt's coming to visit." He looked glumly at the floor. Toshiro tilted his head and shifted to find a more comfortable position to sit in.

"I take it you do not like her?"

Harry laughed humorlessly. "More like she hates _me_. Did you know at Dudley's fifth birthday party she would hit my ankles with her cane to stop me from winning at musical chairs?"

"No," Toshiro said cautiously, but he was now being ignored. The young wizard was fuming, rambling on angrily.

"And _then_ , when Dudley got a robot at Christmas I got dog biscuits. Biscuits! Then three years ago I accidently stepped on Ripper's tail and he chased me up a tree. She wouldn't call the thing off until after midnight! She was laughing," he added finally.

Toshiro was listening to this with some concern. Why hadn't he ever complained? This sounded like something that should be stopped. Immediately.

"Did she ever hurt you?" he asked softly, and whether it was his tone of voice or his expression or some other factor, Harry took notice and looked over at him.

"No, not really. Why?"

Toshiro chose not to answer. If, after everything that happened, Harry still held onto some scrap of innocence, he would not be the one to rob him of that. Still, he would be watching very carefully during this aunt's visit.

"What is her name?" he asked. "And would she be able to see me?"

"No, she's as Muggle as the Dursleys. Her name's Aunt Marge; Uncle Vernon's sister. She hates me, like everyone else."

"I gathered that," Toshiro said dryly. "Why don't you just stay up here while she's visiting?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I wish. Nah, she makes me stay around her just so she can tell me what I'm doing wrong, compare me to Dudley; really just tell me how horrible I am."

The aunt arrived an hour or so later. Toshiro was once again on the roof, and was the first to notice the car pulling in, gravel crunching under its wheels. Toshiro jumped lightly down to stand by the walk and watch as the passenger exited the vehicle: a large, beefy woman with a purple face. He wasn't certain, but Toshiro thought he saw a mustache on her upper lip. An old bulldog was tucked under one arm, and it growled in the Shinigami's direction as the woman waddled past.

Inside the greetings were loud. The woman – who was clearly Aunt Marge – roared for her 'Dudders', her 'neffy-poo'. Toshiro scoffed at the names, and he was quick to notice the twenty-pound note that Dudley suddenly had after pulling away from his aunt's hug. Marge kissed Petunia's cheek, and the conversation was continued in the kitchen. Harry shot Toshiro an apologetic look as he followed.

Very soon the Dursleys were seated around the kitchen table, both guests now with tea. The dog, whom Toshiro assumed must be Ripper, was lapping noisily from its bowl, spraying flecks of tea and drool over the previously clean floor.

They talked for some time. Toshiro stood in the corner, arms crossed, attentively watching the proceedings. He did not necessarily agree with how they treated Harry, though he could not entirely fault them. They did provide him with food, clothes, and shelter. And while he did not fully agree with their behavior, he would not intervene unless something drastic happened. Then they could expect his full wrath.

A dark rumbling from his inner world represented Hyourinmaru's agreement with this sentiment.

He watched as the day went on, listened to their conversations, and came to the conclusion that he did not like this woman. At all. And neither did he like her dog. Early on in the day he left the room to scan the city for Hollows (because he was getting utterly bored and very much wanted a fight) when her dog followed him out. It was growling deep in its throat, and as soon as they exited the house he whipped around, getting on one knee and gripping its chin tightly with one hand. At first it struggled, but then he started speaking and it stilled, looking at him with fear in its eyes. When he was done, he – and it was very clearly a male – went whimpering back into the house.

Harry had apparently watched the exchanged, as he stepped out next to Toshiro. "What'd you do to him?" he asked, wide-eyed.

Toshiro straightened. "I told him what would happen if he crossed me."

"And he understood you?"

Toshiro couldn't help but snort at the young wizard's utterly bewildered expression. "No. At some point if you have enough control over your reiatsu you can manipulate it to suit your needs. Animals are much more perceptive than humans, and it does not take much to scare them."

Harry nodded, turned to go back in the house, and hesitated. "Will you teach me how to control my re-ra-rea…"

Toshiro let the boy ramble on as he considered him. While he had expected this request eventually, he had not thought it would come this soon.

Even among the trio, Harry was the middle one. He was not as smart as Hermione nor as lazy as Ron. He loved Quidditch, but not to Ron's excessive extent or Hermione's disregard of the sport. And while Hermione had accepted Toshiro for what he was, Ron, having grown up with stories of evil Shinigami, had rejected him. Harry, however, had seemed to be undecided, or at least Toshiro thought he was.

Harry noticed the captain's silence and stopped trying to pronounce the word. "What?" he asked uncomfortably.

Toshiro considered how to phrase his question. "You wish for me to teach you. You are remembering that I am not human?"

Harry's gaze lowered to the grass below, and he prodded at it with the toe of one shoe. "I know. It's just…you didn't…you don't _seem_ bad – at least, like Ron's stories."

"Because they are just that," Toshiro said calmly. "Stories. They have been passed on for many years and have gone farther and farther from the truth each time they are told. They have very little fact in them; just enough that I cannot entirely dissuade his beliefs."

A bird chirped in a nearby tree just as the Dursleys' voices rose in laughter. Harry nodded. "Still…if what I have is so dangerous, shouldn't you teach me to control it?"

And there was what Toshiro didn't want him to say. "Yes," he said carefully, "but I am not sure how you would handle your powers. They are not normally for…you, and I do not know if they would behave the same for you as for us."

Luckily Harry did not pursue his hesitation. "So you won't teach me?"

"I did not say that." Harry opened his mouth to argue but Toshiro held up a hand, forestalling him. "I did not say I will not train you. I said I don't know how your powers will react. If that is your wish I will train you, but we will go slowly. And we will not start until school starts again. I wish to be able to put up protective barriers before we mess with your powers."

Harry seemed satisfied. "Good. I've been getting…I don't know…pent-up energy? I feel like I want to be in constant motion, if that makes sense."

"It does." Toshiro nodded sympathetically. "All Shinigami get that way if we do not release our energy. Normally we have enough to do fighting Hollows that we do not have excess energy, but that problem is most common with the Twelfth Division. You should last until school. But…"

Now he hesitated. He had thought about Harry's training – how hard, how far, and so forth – but he wasn't certain if he should try to get the boy in contact with his inner spirit. "I will think on the best way to start your training. Depending on what it is, we may start before school."

"I thought…"

"That is training with your actual powers. There are other things we can do with your restrained powers to prepare."

Harry nodded. "All right." The voices of his family rose again, and he looked back. "I'd better get back in there." He turned. "Are you coming?"

Toshiro shook his head. "No, I'm going to make a sweep of the city. I'll be back soon."

They parted ways, Harry back to the house with his relatives, and Toshiro to the air far above the city.

* * *

The sun was setting three days later, light bouncing off the water of the river and scattering little flecks of light on the surrounding buildings. Toshiro stood far above the city watching the sun set. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, scowling at the thick, polluted air.

 _How anyone can live here for any length of time without fresh air, I have no idea,_ he thought. The air was so different from in Soul Society. There it was clear, sharp, untainted by smog and smoke.

And you could see the _stars_ there.

Toshiro looked up to the sky as the top rim of the sun slid below the horizon, finding the moon surrounded by a sickly yellow ring. _Someday the pollution will clear. I would like to see this city again then._

He stayed out until almost all the light had been leeched from the sky before heading back to Harry's house. He dropped out of shunpo, all his breath suddenly leaving his lungs in one forced exhalation. Struggling to draw in a deep breath, Toshiro practically swam through the magic-infused air until he reached the house and passed in through an open window, making his way down to the dining room as fast as he could. Once he rounded the corner he stopped dead.

There, bouncing gently against the ceiling, all her clothes straining at the seams, was Marge. She was swollen as if she had had a very, _very_ bad allergic reaction, and was yelling at Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley to _get her down_! Vernon was standing on a chair – the poor legs of which were trembling under his immense weight – and had hold of her hand, but wasn't having much success getting her down. Dudley was still sitting at the table and watching television. Petunia was yelling advice to her husband.

And Ripper? He had climbed up a chair onto the table and was eating the food.

Toshiro shook his head in disbelief, blinking heavily to clear his eyes. But it was not to be; they were all still there. Making a sudden decision, he turned on his heel and strode out of the house into the gathering darkness.

He entered his gigai in the shelter of a restroom in a nearby park, then continued on his way, following the angry trail of Harry's magic.

"I was gone for ten minutes!" he exclaimed. " _How_ did he manage to do that?"


	2. Chapter 2

**If someone speaks in Japanese in an English setting or from the point of view of an English speaker, I will bold the Japanese words. Same goes vis-à-vis.**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

It did not take long for Toshiro to find Harry. His reiatsu was like a trail of simmering lightning searing the ground. The boy was sitting dejectedly on a low wall by a park several streets away from his home, staring down at his trunk. Toshiro came silently up behind him, watching as Harry muttered angrily to himself and gave his trunk a swift kick.

"What has that poor trunk done to deserve such harsh treatment?"

Harry leapt to his feet and spun around, his right hand going to his back pocket, where his wand no doubt resided. Toshiro raised an eyebrow. "Jumpy, aren't we?"

Harry glared at him for a moment more before relaxing and dropping down to the wall again. "I thought you were the Ministry," he mumbled. Toshiro frowned.

"So you thought it would be wise to draw your wand on a Ministry official? I applaud you."

Shoulders squaring, Harry scowled. "So you just came here to mock me? I thought you were my friend."

Toshiro went utterly still, alarm stiffening his spine. He stared down at the wizarding child, eyes wide. "My friend?" he echoed. Harry nodded, looking away from him at the bushes lining the road.

"Well, yeah. Why else would you stay with me during the summer to protect me?"

 _"He thinks you are there to protect him!"_ Hyourinmaru roared in amusement. _"How rich."_

Toshiro was looking at Harry in wonder and sadness. **"Someday your trust will betray you,"** he murmured. **"Your fall will be hard, living one."**

"What?" Harry looked back at the Shinigami, brows furrowed. "What'd you say?"

"Nothing of importance."

They were silent for many minutes after, Harry sitting on the low stone wall and Toshiro standing beside and behind. Toshiro lifted his eyes to the dark sky, watching as a cloud passed before the moon, briefly dimming its light.

The boy was his opposite, he realized suddenly. Where Harry was young and innocent, Toshiro had seen too much death and misery to believe the best in the world anymore. It was disconcerting to see the world through the eyes of one so innocent, as he himself used to be.

 _"You were never truly innocent,"_ Hyourinmaru said abruptly, breaking into Toshiro's thoughts. _"Even from a young age you separated yourself from the others."_

 _"Not by design,"_ Toshiro fronwed. _"They avoided_ me _, as I am sure you are very well aware."_

 _"Even so, you made no effort to get to know them. That in of itself speaks volumes."_

Toshiro sighed, dropping a hand to the cool stone and tapping it with a finger. _"This night seems to be one for reflecting."_

Hyourinmaru rumbled.

After several long minutes of silence, Toshiro stepped up and over the wall to sit next to the child wizard. "Why did you think the Ministry would be after you?" he asked, still curious about that.

Harry scowled, the dark cloud of anger hanging low over him once again. "I just blew up my aunt; underage wizards aren't allowed to do magic outside of school. They're going to come after me and expel me." He gave his trunk another annoyed kick, sending it toppling over on its side. Harry glared at it as if it were the source of all his problems.

Toshiro released a soft breath. He certainly wasn't the best at giving pep-talks – he usually let Rangiku deal with that sort of thing in the Squad – but in this case he felt he could help. "Did you knowingly cast a spell to cause your aunt to…inflate?" he asked. Harry turned a puzzled face toward him.

"No…why?"

A small white flower growing in a crack on the top of the stone wall caught his attention, and Toshiro gently touched its soft petals, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. The moon had emerged again, and in its light the flower seemed to shine with an ethereal glow. "Young wizards often preform something called 'accidental magic'," he said at last. "It is not something that they can control, as they have not been taught to keep it suppressed. From what I have seen and what you have said, I believe you preformed accidental magic. The Ministry would not expel you from Hogwarts for something you had no control over."

Harry was looking over at him now, hope shining in his eyes. "You think so?"

Toshiro nodded. "Besides, you are the Boy-Who-Lived. They would not expel their savior."

At that Harry's expression darkened again, and he looked away to glower at the ground. "I don't know why they call me that. I didn't do anything."

"Correct, you did nothing," Toshiro agreed. "You were just a baby. No one knows what happened that night, but unless your magic rose up in your defense you had nothing to do with the destruction of Voldemort."

At the word the entire world seemed to darken as if in grief, a shadow of lingering pain passing over the earth. The Shinigami was weighed down by it for the briefest moment before it lifted, and light came back to the world around him. He blinked.

"In any case, that is in the past. The question is: what are you going to do now?"

Harry leaned back on the wall, looking up at the dark sky. "I don't know. I guess – I guess if I'm not in trouble then I should go to the Leaky Cauldron. But that's so far away and I don't know how to get there." Despair filled his voice.

"Then, if that is not an option, we will just have to–" Toshiro cut himself off, all his instincts forged in battle suddenly screaming at him. He stood carefully, staying balanced on the balls of his feet as he scanned the thick bushes on the other side of the street. Harry started to say something but Toshiro silenced him with a sharp gesture. Drawing his wand from his boot, he took first one then two cautious steps forward, bringing his wand up into a defensive position. He stretched his senses to their fullest, straining for any hint of danger. He was tense, every muscle prepared for sudden movement.

Hyourinmaru stayed completely silent in his inner world, warily lending the keen senses of a dragon to the search. Toshiro stepped slowly into the street, prepared for Hollows, wizards, wild animals, or perhaps unsavory Muggles.

He was not prepared for a huge, atrociously-purple _bus_ to come hurtling at him.

With a seven-ton bus almost on top of him, Toshiro reacted completely on instinct – he shunpoed far, _far_ away.

Watching from across the park, Toshiro suddenly felt very silly as Harry boarded _The Knight Bus_ – as was stenciled in gold letters over the windshield. Harry glanced back at him once, clearly puzzled as to why Toshiro didn't return. But then the bus lurched away from the curb and disappeared around the corner, carrying the wizard child away from the Shinigami captain with a loud _bang_.

* * *

Harry may not have known how to get to the Leaky Cauldron, but Toshiro had had too much free time over the summer and so had gotten to know the city quite well. He made his way through the dark streets at a quick yet comfortable pace, not a shunpo but certainly fast in its own right. His endurance, earned from a lifetime of fighting Hollows, was great.

He passed very little people on his journey, and those who saw him thought him a wraith, death embodied in flashes of white and black and deep turquoise. They curtained their windows and went to their beds to wait out the night.

As he ran he became aware of a shadow deeper than the night sliding amongst the buildings behind him, always on his trail. It was quick and darted away from his wary eyes, but it was not silent. Toshiro could hear the click of something sharp on the concrete and a heavy, panting breath. The same feeling as before – the dark presence full of great anger – stayed with him as he ran. Several times he suddenly spun around, hoping to catch his shadow in the light, but it always managed to keep back.

Frustrated and concerned, Toshiro increased his pace to get to the Leaky Cauldron as fast as he could. When he arrived he pushed open the door and quickly shut it behind him, then looked around the large eating room. Since it was very late at night – or very early in the morning, he did not know – the room was empty. He blinked, peering through the darkness to the counter where Tom the bartender and innkeeper was normally found. The man was not there, however, a fact that unsettled Toshiro slightly. Tom did not normally abandon his post.

Toshiro suddenly and aimlessly wondered if Tom slept. Shaking his head to clear it, Toshiro moved silently through the room to the stairs, following the faint trail of Harry's magic. He had apparently calmed somewhat, as the trail was much less visible as before. But it was enough for Toshiro to follow, and he eventually ended up before room eleven. Behind it, Toshiro could sense Harry's magical signature. It was unsettled and anxious.

A wizard's magic, like the reiatsu-signature of the Shinigami, was specific to only that particular witch or wizard. Over the two years Toshiro had spent amongst the wizards, he had decided that magic was simply a watered-down version of reiatsu. The wizards did not have enough to control it on their own, so they relied on wands to channel their magic. These wands made them quite formidable, and Toshiro would not like to face an army of wizards on the battlefield.

Raising a hand to knock, Toshiro thought better and instead reached for the doorknob, relieved and annoyed when it turned easily. _I will give him a lecture about this that he will never forget!_ he thought angrily. For someone of his status, the Boy-Who-Lived could be surprisingly naïve.

The room inside was like all the other rooms in the Leaky Cauldron: dark except for the flickering light of a fire, and furnished with a large bed and several pieces of very well-polished oak furniture. A flash of white caught his eye, and he instinctively raised a hand in preparation for a kido before he realized that the white was simply Hedwig, Harry's beautiful Snowy Owl. She eyed him warily, hooting once, softly. Toshiro lowered his hand and looked around again.

In the middle of the bed, glasses lopsided, was a certain dark-haired wizarding child.

Toshiro gave his sleeping form a glare. _You go to sleep without locking the door?_ How _have you survived this long?_

Silently crossing the room, he gave Hedwig a reassuring pat. Recognizing him, she resettled her wings and ducked her head.

The sun was just starting to lighten the eastern horizon, but its rays had yet to reach the earth. Toshiro swiftly made a decision, locked the door, pulled a chair next to the window and sat, waiting for the dawn to break.

* * *

Light was streaming through the open window before Harry woke. The morning had been quiet, and Toshiro had felt no need to wake Harry early.

Rustling and a groan told him the boy was awake, shaking Toshiro of his thoughts of home. He took a deep breath and turned. Harry was sitting up in the bed, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. Then he blinked and looked blearily around, jumping when he saw Toshiro.

"Toshiro!" he yelped, closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath. "What're you doing here?"

Toshiro scowled. "Hitsugaya," he corrected. "And it is my duty to make sure you do not lose control of your powers. I cannot do that if I am not with you."

Harry looked down, fingering the sheets. "Yeah, but how'd you get _here_?"

"I came in through the door."

Harry looked at it in surprise, as if it had betrayed them.

Toshiro bit back the lecture that was starting to bubble up, deciding that the boy needed food before anything else. "Why don't we go down and get some food?"

At his nod the two went down the stairs. Tom was behind the bar, and looked up in surprise at Toshiro. "Mr. Hitsugaya," he greeted. "When did you get here?"

Toshiro froze. He hadn't considered that it might be odd for him to suddenly show up without coming in the front door. "I – just now," he answered, sounding pathetic even to himself. "I went through the Floo and was in Diagon Alley." Tom nodded, apparently satisfied.

"Would you be needing a room?"

"Yes," Toshiro answered. He wanted to sleep on a bed, and he would _not_ be sharing one with Harry. "Just until school starts again."

"I'll get one ready for you."

"Thank you."

Relieved to get off that uncomfortable topic, Toshiro ordered some tea and sat at a table in the corner with a view of all the exits. Harry joined him a moment later, and they sat in silence until Tom came with Harry's breakfast and Toshiro's tea. Then the room was filled with the quiet sounds of eating and drinking.

"Fudge was here," Harry said suddenly. Toshiro, taking a sip of his tea, raised an eyebrow. "Cornelius Fudge," he elaborated, "the Minister of Magic."

Toshiro's other eyebrow lifted. " _The_ Minister of Magic?" Harry nodded, chewing a roll. "For a simple case of underage magic?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Oh, he told me not to go into Muggle London. Said it's best they know where I am."

"He's hiding something," Toshiro said immediately, setting down his teacup.

"I know; I thought so, too."

"I wonder what it's about," Toshiro murmured, closing his eyes to think. What was going on that the Minister himself would go to the Leaky Cauldron to simply talk to Harry Potter? It had something to do with Harry's status – that much he was sure of. The Minister of Magic would never go to such lengths for any normal witch or wizard – it just wasn't practical. And it wasn't as if he had done anything; he could have sent another wizard to give Harry his message. So what…

Toshiro's thoughts were interrupted by a rough voice: "Mr. Hitsugaya?"

He opened his eyes and looked up into Tom's ragged face. "Yes?"

"I have room fourteen open, if you would like to use it. It will be five Galleons and eight Knuts, if you are going to stay until Hogwarts begins."

Toshiro nodded, getting his bag from his pocket and pulling out the requested coins. He handed them over and Tom left after dropping a key on the table. Toshiro pocketed it. He looked over to see Harry looking curiously at him.

"Where did you get the money?" he asked.

Toshiro couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from lifting. "I have my ways," he said. Harry frowned but said nothing more on the subject.

Truth was, Toshiro's 'ways' consisted of having Kurotschuchi manufacture the coins less than legally. Normally they had a fund for missions in the world of the living with all the various monies that countries used. As they had not known about the wizards until recently, they were forced to create replicas instead of getting real ones. So far they had not been detected, and he sincerely hoped that would continue. He did not like to think about what would happen if the goblins found out.

He pulled his thoughts away from the goblins and looked once more at Harry. "How did he seem? Was he anxious and worried or tense but calm?"

Harry looked confused. "Uh…"

Toshiro closed his eyes again, taking a moment to reign in his temper. It would not do to explode on the poor boy. After all, he was not one of Toshiro's subordinates, whom he had trained to give clear, exact reports. This was just a human, and a mortal at that. Still, it irritated him that he now had to ask specific questions to get his desired answers. "How did he seem when you first met? Did you get the sense that he was anxious?"

"Yes," Harry answered slowly and carefully. "But I don't see…"

"Then let me continue," Toshiro interrupted. "I will explain once I formulate my theories. But for that to happen I need you to answer honestly. Go with your first thought – your gut reaction." The wizarding child nodded, still confused but thankfully silent. "Now, think back. What exactly happened?"

For a good ten minutes Toshiro listened to Harry's story, starting from when he left on the Knight Bus. He noted several parts that he wanted to question, starting with the obvious.

Harry finally took a breath, popping his last roll into his mouth. Toshiro took a moment to gather himself. "So, Black," he said, tapping the side of his teacup, "is a wizard." Harry nodded. "And you say he killed thirteen people?"

"That's what Stan said; a wizard and a dozen Muggles."

"And the Muggles' cover-up?"

"Um…gas explosion?" Toshiro nodded slowly, and was a little surprised when Harry continued. "He must have been after that one wizard, right?"

Toshiro looked up and tilted his head to one side, his bangs falling into his eyes. "Not necessarily. Normally that would be the conclusion, but from what you have said its sounds like Black was mad – or on his way, at least. Sometimes it is just impossible to predict what someone in that state would do. But, yes, I think it would be wise to assume he was after the wizard."

Harry looked faintly sick. _He's keeping something back,_ Toshiro realized something. He mentally went through the story again, looking for inconsistencies in the plot or anything that seemed lacking. He didn't find anything, and decided that it wasn't worth interrogating the boy over. If he wished to tell, he would tell.

They stayed down in the eating-room for another half-hour until other people started to appear and their conversation was going to become much less private. Toshiro stood, stretching, and gestured for Harry to follow. "Come. We should not waste a day by spending it inside discussing topics that we can do nothing about. Let us explore Diagon Alley.

And explore they did. The wizarding street was full of such wondrous and amazing things that they were kept busy the entire day, even Toshiro, who loathed shopping and crowds with a passion. Harry refilled his money bag and Toshiro checked the amount of 'real' coins in his bag. He had more than enough to suffice. Kurotschuchi apparently enjoyed making them as real as possible, and so had created far more than Toshiro would ever need.

Harry seemed to want to buy a great deal many things, including a ridiculously expensive game with solid gold stones. He was fascinated by a globe model of the solar system. But by far, his greatest temptation was the Firebolt broomstick.

Harry pressed himself to the glass of the Quidditch shop staring at the broom while Toshiro stood off to the side, watching with no little amusement – not that he let it show. At last he had to drag the boy away from the shop, as it was growing dark and he didn't want to be out after the sun set.

He still remembered the shadow that had followed him, and that night he did not sleep. He sat in his windowsill and kept his senses spread wide, watching for anything out of place.


	3. Chapter 3

**A shorter chapter than normal, yes, but I felt that the ending was a good place to put it. You'll see why when you get there.**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

A pale sun rose over a warm London, casting light and banishing shadows as it rose. Toshiro stood stiffly from the windowsill, having moved very little during the night and was now paying for it. He took a quick shower, enjoying the warm water that loosened his muscles.

The restrooms were not attached to the guest rooms, so he had to go down the hall to find an available shower stall. As he was walking back to his room, toweling off his hair, he turned the corner and collided with a soft wall of flesh. Stumbling back rather ungracefully, Toshiro quickly held up his hands in apology. Then he got a good look at who he'd run into.

It was a girl – a fact Toshiro realized, face reddening – with waist-length, dirty blonde hair, pale eyes and eyebrows, and wearing a necklace of butterbeer caps. She had a fair face, though there was something about her that just seemed…odd.

Toshiro immediately found himself liking her. She was different from the rest of them, just like he was. Well, perhaps not _exactly_ like him, but the theory was the same regardless.

"Hello," she said, looking him over. Toshiro was suddenly glad for the few extra inches that Kurotschuchi had added to his gigai. The adjustment had taken some getting used to, but he was finding it quite enjoyable. "I'm sorry about bumping into you, but I was just so into reading that I didn't see you." She waved her hand, which grasped a newspaper, as she spoke.

"It was my fault," Toshiro said apologetically. "I was not paying attention to where I was going. I am sorry."

"Oh, it could have been worse," the girl said dismissively. Toshiro blinked, not quite sure how to interpret that response. "I'm Luna Lovegood, by the way. I'll be in my second year of Hogwarts. Who are you?"

"Toshiro Hitsugaya," he answered, remembering at the last moment to switch the names around. "I am going into my third year."

"Oh? What house?"

"Gryffindor."

The girl smiled. "I love being surrounded by books."

"Ravenclaw," Toshiro said. "They have a library in their common room."

Laughing, Luna shifted, and her pale hair fell before her face. "I know." She looked up then, eyes fixing on something behind him. "Well, I've got to go. It was nice meeting you, Toshiro. Or – do you prefer to go by your last name?"

"Last," he confirmed.

"Last it is, then." She smiled. "I'll see you around, Hitsugaya." And with that she was gone, and he was left standing in the middle of the hall, hair still damp from his shower. He went back to his room to change, just a little bit lighter than before.

* * *

Toshiro walked down the stairs to the eating room and looked around briefly before going over to the table that Harry was sitting at. "I am going into Diagon Alley to get a book," Toshiro said, causing the boy to look up from his paper.

"Okay…" Harry replied, looking confused. Toshiro looked down at his parchment.

"Four radical five."

"What?"

He reached down and pointed at the next problem. "Here. This simplifies-"

"I got it!" Harry batted away the captain's hands. "That's not what I'm asking. I thought you already got all your books."

"Oh." Toshiro straightened and put his hands into his pockets, an annoyed expression crossing his face. "I did at the beginning of first year, but _someone_ changed the course list. Now I have to go get the book for Care of Magical Creatures."

He was a bit alarmed to see Harry smirk before turning back to his work. "Good luck."

"I should not think I need it," Toshiro said. "It is just a book, after all."

"You'd think that."

Shaking his head Toshiro walked out back and tapped his wand on the bricks then entered the chaos that was Diagon Alley.

He wound his way through the people in the crowded streets, looking up at the signs. He had been to the bookstore enough to know where it was, but with the sheer amount of people he feared that he might get swept farther down the street than he wanted. When he finally reached the store, he glanced in the window and stopped dead.

On the display was a large iron that held thick green books with golden letters. They were tightly packed in the cage, fighting for space and biting at each other with fanged covers. With dread slowly creeping into him, Toshiro looked at his book list.

"Of course."

He reluctantly entered the store, and immediately the manager – a young, irritated-looking man – stood from a stool behind the counter. "Hogwarts?" he asked abruptly. "Come to get your new books?"

"Just one," Toshiro answered, and the man's face fell.

"One of those?" He didn't even have to turn to see what book the manager was pointing at. The manager groaned at his nod, but brushed past him and drew on a pair of very thick gloves and grabbed a large, scratched walking stick. "I'm never stocking them again," he muttered, approaching the cage with trepidation. "Never!"

Toshiro watched him prepare to unlock the cage before quickly striding over. "Hold on. Why don't you just cast an immobilizing charm on them?"

The manager turned an exasperated glare on him. "I've _tried_ ," he cried. "I've tried everything!"

Toshiro studied the books for a moment more, an idea forming in his mind. "What if I…tried something?"

The manager shrugged. "Honestly? Go ahead. Just don't expect anything."

He drew his wand from his boot and a parchment from his pocket and, ignoring the manager's curious look, flicked it, casting a spell that would detail the exact animating charm onto the paper. It took several minutes for it to finish transcribing, but when it did almost half the page was filled with words. He let out a low whistle and looked up at the manager.

"If I remove the animating charm on the books will you give me one free of charge?"

The manager considered the request. "Well, I suppose…They _are_ mine, since I bought them…Yes. Go ahead."

Toshiro nodded shortly and set the parchment down next to the cage, then took out a pencil (which he had found in the Muggle world and _much_ preferred over quills) and started marking up the paper. The manager watched over his shoulder and made an astonished sound when Toshiro turned the pencil over and erased a section of his work.

"That's amazing!" he breathed, staring at the pencil. "What is it?"

"A pencil."

"Wow…"

Shaking his head Toshiro turned back to his work. Honestly, he didn't see why the wizards had such a hard time accepting the Muggles. How they ever managed to blend in, he had no idea.

His work took a long time, as it was difficult to neutralize every aspect of the animating charm and make sure that he didn't add anything of his own. Once he finished that he then had to write out the new spell, making sure that it wouldn't change what he'd written. Strangely enough, despite the laborious work, he enjoyed it. It was oddly enjoyable to be able to dissect a long, complex spell and rework it, changing what _is_ to what _is not_.

This was something that he had never tried before, but the idea had been bothering him for a while. Now, finally, he had a chance to try it out.

Sometime after he started a person walked in and the manager left to go tend to his costumer but did not return, presumably actually doing his job.

Finally, after a good fifteen minutes of meticulous work, checking, and triple-checking, he straightened, muscles tense from the uncomfortable position of bending over a counter for so long. Looking around he didn't see the manager so he wandered around the empty store before heading for the back door and knocking firmly on it. Just as he was reaching for the handle, the door flew open and the manager almost crashed into him.

"Whoa!" The manager backpedaled and held up his hands. "Sorry, kid. Thought you'd still be working."

Swallowing an angry retort, Toshiro simply shook his head. "No, I'm going to take it somewhere more comfortable and work on it. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Oh, all right." The manager blinked. "Honestly, I didn't even know you _could_ undo a charm."

Toshiro gave him a questioning look.

"I mean, I know – like _Stupefy_ , you just wake 'em up again, right? But I haven't heard of unworking them, if you know what I mean."

He stared at the manager. What he was doing was…logical. You just…undo it…

"Anyway," the manager said loudly after a minute of awkward silence, "you'll be back tomorrow?"

Toshiro nodded and left, shooting a last glance at the books' cage.

* * *

The Alley was just as busy as normal. People milled around in every nook and cranny, shouting and exclaiming, running and walking. Venders were hawking their wares, holding out objects to ensnare unwary shoppers and draw them in. One showed a necklace out to Toshiro, encouraging him to buy it for his girlfriend. He ignored the man.

His plan was to simply find a place to work in peace, but that was simply impossible in this place. There were people _everywhere_. Eventually just giving up after several minutes of searching, Toshiro stalked back to the Leaky Cauldron. He passed through the gateway, pausing briefly to scan the briefing room. Harry was not there, so he left into Muggle London.

The sun, which had risen further in the sky during his time in Diagon Alley, was beating down on the city, intensifying his annoyance. What he really needed, he decided, was somewhere nice and cool, with no people to distract him.

 _"May I suggest Antarctica?"_ Hyourinmaru chuckled, and Toshiro smiled wistfully.

 _"I wonder if I could use the Senkaimon to travel there."_

 _"Not likely. Yamamoto only allowed you back to Soul Society to restock; I doubt he'd let you use it so you could go away from your post."_

 _"Yeah, you're probably right…"_

 _"I am."_

Toshiro rolled his eyes, glancing down the street before darting across. _"Full of yourself today, aren't you?"_

 _"Just remember, master: I'm a part of you."_

 _"Yes, I know."_

 _"You don't have to sound so depressed."_

Toshiro snorted, and they fell into a companionable silence. He swiftly made his way across the city, all the while wishing that he was in his gigai so that he could simply shunpo away. But the problem with that was with the sheer amount of people in London, one of them was bound to be a witch or a wizard and be able to see him.

He finally got where he was going: a large park a few miles from the Leaky Cauldron. It was a haven from the bustle of the city, full of green trees and plants, a small lake with several streams trickling off it, and, best of all, a thickly forested section that hardly anyone used. He went there now, climbing up a tree to sit in a fork of two branches, simply watching the world around him for a few minutes.

The area he was in was peaceful enough, though one never could really get away from the sounds of the city. The surrounding growth was thick with bushes, which were great deterrents for casual strollers or even the most determined of teenagers. He was surprised that the city workers didn't trim back the bushes, but decided not to complain. It offered him a sheltered place to go and sit through the stresses of the day without having to deal with people trying his patience. There were some days that he simply wished to slaughter every being in his way, be it Hollow or other.

And on those days he let his reiatsu leak out, attracting delighted Hollows eager for the blood of a Shinigami Captain.

On those days he would fight until he was exhausted, until blood soaked his clothes, until only a thin stream of slush would emerge when he called out his Shikai.

This was not one of those days, however. Today he just sat and worked.

He was just learning that spells were not simple incantations that channeled magic and forced it to do what the caster wished it to. No, once written and broken down they were convoluted, interwoven pieces of art that fit together unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was difficult to untangle the webs that this particular spell created, to form its opposite, but he enjoyed the challenge. This, unlike most everything else that the professors taught at Hogwarts, was complex and delicate, requiring concentration to get right. If one thing was wrong then the whole counter-spell would be off.

The work was calming, somehow. It was relaxing.

He was so concentrating so deeply on his work that he didn't noticed the black shape emerge from the bushes and dip its head to drink deeply from the stream. It, also, did not notice him until he shifted and the leaves rustled. Then its head shot up and it crouched, ears flattening and lips pulling back into a snarl.

He was just marking where to place a negative when something caught at the collar of his shirt and pulled him roughly to the ground. His paper and pencil scattered, but he paid them no mind as he landed, hard, on his back on the ground, all the air leaving his lungs in one sudden rush.

Stunned, he lay there for a moment, staring up at the swaying tips of trees before his vision was blocked by a large, dark shape.

A heavy weight settled over his chest and stomach and something cold pressed against the soft skin of his throat.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm so glad it's the weekend. It's been such a _long_ week…I had a MC test in my hardest class yesterday, then today we had to write a five paragraph essay in thirty minutes in the same class…It's rough. Anyway, the story!**

 ** _"Harry ate breakfast each morning in the Leaky Cauldron, where he liked watching the other guests: funny little witches from the country, up for a day's shopping; venerable-looking wizards arguing over the latest article in_ Transfiguration Today** _ **; wild-looking warlocks; raucous dwarfs; and once, what looked suspiciously like a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a thick woolen balaclava" (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban**_ _**49).**_

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

The dark shape leaned down, filling his entire line of sight. It had moved in front of the sun so he could not see what it was, but he could feel the blade of something below his chin, dangerously close to his jugular.

The fall had knocked the wind out of him, and he was struggling to breathe. His mouth was open but no air was going in, and he felt a rising sense of panic at that fact. He knew, of course, that the condition was temporary – he'd had it many times before, usually during sparring matches and one memorable time during a fight against several Hollows – but it always managed to prey upon a primal fear of not being able to breathe. So he was focused on restoring his lung function when he really should have been paying attention to the man sitting on him with a blade at his throat.

Grunting once in annoyance, the man spoke again. "Tell me!"

Toshiro tried to respond but his lungs still didn't work, and he ended up just gasping on the ground. He _hated_ this vulnerability, that he couldn't do anything simply because he couldn't breathe. His lungs were burning and his heart was pounding, and he was sure that his attacker could feel it.

Once he got the use of his lungs back he was going to _slaughter_ the man! Hyourinmaru was rumbling anxiously in the back of his mind, urging him to take action.

The man leaned down again, and the knife pressed harder on his throat. "Tell me or I _will_ slit your throat!" he hissed just as Toshiro finally got his breath back – at the most inopportune time imaginable.

The man's foul breath filled his nose and mouth, the putrid smell causing him to gag and turn his head involuntarily away, and a sharp line of fire formed on his throat. He grimaced and managed: "Tell you what?"

In the time that it took the man to answer Toshiro was judging how the man was positioned and how it would be best to get away. For he did not like being on his back with a clearly hostile man sitting on him and holding a knife to his throat. He did not like it at all.

"Tell me what you did to him," the man growled, pulling his face back slightly now that Toshiro had answered. He was very glad for the distance between them.

"Who?" he asked, distracted. The man was sitting on his stomach, with his right hand holding the hilt of the knife and his left for balance on Toshiro's chest.

Fool. He should have been keeping his arms pinned.

A flash of movement caught his eye, and he glanced over, expecting to see another attacker, but instead seeing the paper he was working on flutter in a breeze and blow into the stream. Anger rushed through him.

Just as the man was taking breath to answer, winter exploded.

It was as if a sudden burst of ice spread across the clearing, freezing the blades of glass into innumerable daggers, coating the base of the nearest tree with an impenetrable coat of armor, chilling the water of the small stream into a thick sludge. The summer sun shone down, glinting off the ice and setting little shards of light dancing all around.

It was beautiful.

The man was instantly covered in his materialized reiatsu: a living statue. He stared down with wide eyes as Toshiro extricated himself from under him, sliding easily from the ice-coated blade. The ice did not harm him – it was his to command.

Even as he strode over to the river he did not turn his back to the man, so deeply ingrained were his instincts. He plucked the paper out of the water, eyes narrowing when he saw that his notes were blurred and some were unreadable.

"You ruined my work," he said, voice tight with anger. "You are lucky I need to finish this. If you attack me again I won't hesitate to retaliate." Stalking past the man, he picked up his pencil from where it had fallen and left the man beside the river in a clearing frozen with the first frost of summer.

* * *

The journey back to the Leaky Cauldron was a blur. He barely saw or heard the people around him and didn't notice the concerned looks they threw him. A few started to approach him but backed away at the fell look on his face.

He threw open the door to the pub and let it close with a satisfying thud, making several patrons jump at the noise and turn to the door. The talking inside dropped away as the customers got a good look at him. He ignored them all, marching across the room to the stairs. A voice stopped him.

"Wait – Hitsugaya!"

He turned and was prepared to glare at the man who had interrupted his furious journey to his room when he saw Tom's wide-eyed expression. He was staring at Toshiro's neck, mouth hanging open.

"What?" Toshiro snapped, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice. The sound made Tom jump.

"What happened? Your throat…"

He pressed his fingers to his throat, and they came away red. He looked impassively down at them. "Blood," he said. Tom snorted and reached out. Toshiro took an involuntary step back, and Tom pulled away with a hurt expression. "I am fine," Toshiro said, glancing around once more at the silent room. "I will be in my room."

With that he left behind a roomful of stunned witches and wizards.

* * *

Toshiro once again let the door slam behind him and strode to the mirror propped against the wall. He stared into it, taking in his condition.

His hair was messy and dirty from being on the ground, but most noticeably was his neck. A bruise was forming around a long cut that trickled blood down his pale skin. He studied it critically, probing it with a finger before getting a towel and carefully wiping away the blood. Once cleaned it looked much better than it had previously, and was less likely to attract attention. Still, he pulled his wand from his boot and cast a quick healing spell, sealing the edges of the small wound and removing the dark bruises. Once satisfied he replaced his wand in his boot and sat on his bed, staring down at his paper.

The words, luckily, weren't all that smeared, but he would have to copy them down onto another paper before he could finish. With a small groan he set it into the sunlight and prepared for a long day.

Copying was a relatively mindless work, so he had time to think. And as he did so he realized he was angry. Angry at himself, the man, and everyone who he'd ever crossed swords with. _How_ had he let a _mortal_ sneak up on him? He snarled, pressing down harder than necessary and tearing the paper in the process. He crumpled it up and threw it with a wordless shout, putting his head down into his hands as it flew across the room to bounce off the wall.

Was all his time in the world of the Living affecting him somehow? Was that why he seemed so weak? Was that why he seemed to _care_ what happened in this world, to Hogwarts and her people?

Toshiro put his head down onto his crossed arms, hunched over the desk. He was becoming weak. The thought flicked across his mind, flashing like a candle-flare. That had to be the reason. He was just spending too much time here.

With that thought weighing down his movements, he reached for another piece of paper.

* * *

He had just finished copying everything over onto another paper when there was a soft knock on his door. He ignored it, figuring that whoever it was would just go away, but the knocking continued once. There was a pause, then –

"There's dwarfs!"

Toshiro jumped at the sudden, excited voice, and turned to glare at the one who had dared to break his concentration. "There had better be a good reason for you to come barging into my room," he warned. The Boy-Who-Lived paused mid-step.

"I knocked," he said uncertainly. Toshiro closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"You did. But I did not call you in. Therefore–"

"But there's dwarfs!" Harry said again, eyes lighting up. "Downstairs!"

"Why do I even bother?" Toshiro grumbled to himself. Then he raised his eyes to Harry's. "And why should I care?"

"Well…" The boy floundered for a moment, and Toshiro allowed himself a smirk, confident that he could get the boy to go away soon and leave him to his work. But then he jolted forward, taking Toshiro's hand and pulling the surprised Shinigami out of his chair. "Just come on!"

The boy danced anxiously in the hall while Toshiro locked his door, barely restraining himself enough to let him put the key in his pocket before grabbing his hand again and pulling him down to the stairs.

"Where are these dwarfs?" he grumbled softly, scanning the crowded eating-room as they descended. Harry pointed.

"There. See?"

Indeed he did. Sitting in the middle of the room around a small table laden with food and drink were three dwarfs. They were small folk – the tallest was roughly four feet and the smallest a mere two. Through the milling crowd he could tell that they sported neat, thick beards and wore fine clothes. They were talking animatedly with one another, one hand at their flagons and the other waving wildly in the air.

As the two wove their way through the crowd Toshiro studied the dwarfs with a different eye – military. Two of the dwarfs – the tallest and the shortest – were broad-shouldered and alternately swept the room with a cautious eye. _They are trained,_ Toshiro decided, then looked at the third, _but he is not._

There were three axes leaning up against the table, but he didn't think the third dwarf was as familiar with his as his companions. His was further away, the head against the table. The other two, with the heads down and the grips up, were much more accessible and ready. If they were attacked the third dwarf would waste precious seconds righting his weapon.

He was also not built like a warrior. Though all three were stocky and wrapped in muscle, he moved without the grace warriors achieved. His hands were long-fingered and surprisingly agile, not used to handling weapons. Even Toshiro's hands, which were slender, had the roughness and curvature that came from gripping the hilt of his zanpakuto most of his life.

At last Harry reached them and stood awkwardly by their table. The tall and short one noticed him immediately and were studying him, and the third, seeing that he had lost their attention, quieted and also turned to the boy. There was now a cautious air about them as Toshiro stood beside Harry and the two dwarfs focused on him, disregarding Harry as a threat.

Toshiro approved.

"H-Hi," Harry stuttered, jerkily waving a hand. The two glanced at him.

Looking back and forth between his companions and the newcomers, the third dwarf snorted and stuck a hand out to Harry. "Greetings," he said. "I am Fínagua. What is your call?"

"Call?" Harry repeated, hesitantly shaking the dwarf's hand. Toshiro repressed an eye-roll. It seems when it actually comes to meeting them the boy is shy.

"Name," the dwarf amended.

"Oh – Harry."

The dwarf blinked. " _The_ Harry?"

"Yes," _the_ Harry said reluctantly. The dwarf grinned.

"Well, then, you must join us!" He looked around, spotted an empty chair that a wizard had just vacated, and pulled it over to the table. "Come, and tell us of your adventures!"

He sat, and glanced over his shoulder at Toshiro. The tall and short dwarfs, who had switched their gaze to Harry upon the utterance of his name, looked at the captain again. Toshiro returned their gazes steadily. "This is To – Hitsugaya," Harry said. The dwarfs nodded to him, and he returned the gesture, standing to the left of Harry's chair.

"This is Blaiö and Oklatr," Fínagua said, waving to the tall and short dwarf respectively. "We are from the Raeur Clan in the north."

The two warrior-dwarfs looked sharply at Fínagua, as if unhappy to have that piece of information revealed. Toshiro noted this with great interest.

The dwarfs' flagons were full of ale and only contained half of what they could, yet the dwarfs did not seem intoxicated. Their eyes were sharp and their movements within limits. Yet Fínagua seemed to have the loose tongue of a drunkard.

"I haven't heard of that," Harry said, leaning forward.

"I am not surprised," Oklatr said, voice low and as rough as rolling rocks. "We do not give up our secrets to any random passerby." He gave a pointed look at Fínagua, which the medium dwarf completely ignored.

"Yes, we do not make our home well-known," Fínagua said. "But we are not inhospitable people."

"I'll admit, the only time I've seen dwarfs was on Valentine's Day, when our professor hired some to deliver–"

"Messages," Toshiro interrupted, seeing a dark look cross the three dwarfs' faces.

"Aye, we know what they are," Oklatr rumbled. "They are our cousins. Very distant, you should know."

"I understand," Toshiro continued, putting a warning hand on Harry's shoulder. The boy lacked any skills to understand what he should and should not say when meeting potentially dangerous people. "From what I have read you seem like a proud race. I was surprised when meeting your kin."

He had found a large book in the library listing all of the magical world's inhabitants, and had spent several days pouring over it, fascinated. And he thought _his_ world was diverse!

His words seemed to soothe the dwarfs, for they nodded enthusiastically. "Indeed!" Fínagua cried, and raised his flagon. "Well said! Bartender! Two more for our friends!"

Oklatr and Blaiö raised their cups with bemused expressions, drinking deeply when Fínagua did. Tom appeared several moments later, a cup of tea for Hitsugaya and a glass of milk for Harry. He tapped Hitsugaya on the shoulder and jerked his head to the side. Toshiro nodded and followed, glancing back only once to give Harry a worried look.

Tom led him to a corner partially hidden by a pillar before turning and running a critical eye over Toshiro. "You are healed," he said.

Toshiro put a hand to his neck and nodded. "It was nothing."

Tom frowned, straightening as much as his hunched back would allow. "It was not 'nothing'," he said vehemently, "it was bleeding! On your _throat_!"

Toshiro clasped his hands behind his back, widened his stance, squared his shoulders, and raised his chin. "It was nothing I could not deal with," he said firmly. "And I did. I gave as good as I got."

Studying him for a minute, Tom slowly shook his head. "Students who live under this roof are in my care. It is my duty to take care of them."

"I do not need you to take care of me."

"No. But do not keep something like this from me. I will have to report it, you know."

"You would not."

"I would." Tom started to walk back into the eating room, pausing briefly. "It is not weakness to allow others to help you," he said, and disappeared into the crowd.

Toshiro stared after him, anger rising in him. How _dare_ he? Who was he to tell _him_ what to do? He, who was the Captain of the Tenth Division, leader of–"

 _"Master, contain yourself!"_

Hyourinmaru's words rumbling through his mind, Toshiro snapped back and realized that frost was creeping along the stone floor from his feet, and the temperature in the room had decreased by several degrees. He took a deep breath, regained control of his reiatsu and allowed the temperature to rise back to normal. The frost receded, leaving no trace of it behind.

 _"The boy is not the only one who needs restraint,"_ Hyourinmaru growled. _"You say you are better than the keeper, but if you cannot even control your own powers you do not deserve them! You_ are _a captain, Toshiro, but you are still a_ child _! Master yourself before you think to judge others!"_

Toshiro stood motionless in the corner of the hall, chest heaving as he took deep, steadying breaths. He glared after the innkeeper with his jaw set. Then, all his breath rushing from him in one long rush, he drove his fist into the hard stone wall, splitting open his knuckles and sending a lance of pain shooting through his hand. He held it up, watching it bleed indifferently.

 _"Real mature, Master,"_ Hyourinmaru snorted. _"And just what did that accomplish?"_

He looked at the wall. There was no sign of his outburst – no blood, no cracks, and no frost.

He turned away.

* * *

Harry and the dwarfs were still talking when he rejoined them. He took his place beside Harry's chair silently, and the only sign that the dwarfs had even registered his presence was a quick nod in his direction. Harry did not appear to notice.

Toshiro listened attentively as they talked, registering that they were not talking about anything important. Reaching forward to get his teacup – making Harry jump in the process – he grimaced. It was cold.

Blaiö did not talk once. If Toshiro was not used to all sorts of people he would have been unnerved by the dwarf who sat silently, taking in everything with clear gray eyes. Even as he ate and drank he was studying their surroundings. Toshiro got the feeling nothing escaped his notice.

Finally, after the lunch rush ended, Oklatr sucked in a breath and straightened. "Well, my – Fínagua, we should be going. We need to be home before three, if you recall."

Fínagua sighed but did not complain and scraped his chair back, pushing himself to his feet with hands that had never seen war. "Aye," he said, "but I wish it were not so. I thoroughly enjoyed our talk, Mr. Potter. Yours also, Mr. To-Gaya, despite your lack of words."

Toshiro bent his head in acknowledgement, then frowned. "To-Gaya?" he questioned, striving to keep his tone polite and fearing he utterly failed. "My name–"

"Farewell," Fínagua said, completely ignoring the Shinigami. "We shall meet again, I hope!"

"It was nice to meet you," Harry answered, and the two watched as the dwarfs crossed the room to the Floo fireplaces. Blaiö, the tall dwarf, left first, but they were too far away to hear where he went. Then Fínagua stepped in, and finally Oklatr left. When the last traces of green fire died away Harry turned to look at Toshiro.

"Wasn't that great?" he exclaimed. "I've never met dwarfs before!"

"Neither have I," Toshiro said, still gazing at the fireplace. He crossing his arms across his chest. "That was very interesting."

"Interesting? That's all you – blimey, what happened to your hand?"

"Hm?" He looked down and quickly tucked his hand behind his back and out of sight. "It is nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing." Harry frowned. "You didn't have that before…I think. Right?"

Toshiro sighed. "Potter, do not concern yourself about me. I am very capable of taking care of myself. You have enough to do keeping yourself safe. Do not spare thought for me. It is simpler that way."

"But…"

"Potter." Toshiro spoke sharply, causing Harry's surprised eyes to meet Toshiro's stern ones. "It is best not to get too close to me. For your own good."

To his surprise, Harry snorted. "Bit late for that, don't you think?" He turned. "I'm going back to Diagon. You coming?"

"No, I need to finish my work." Toshiro waited until the boy had disappeared out the back door before starting for the stairs. Just as he put his foot on the first step, however, motion out of the corner of his eye made him pause.

There, on the wall, was a large poster with a black and white picture in the center. The picture was moving, showing a skeletal man with matted hair and shadowed eyes. He was struggling against the two restraining hands on his shoulders. Toshiro was utterly still as he stared at the picture, then his gaze flicked down to the words and started to read.

Minutes later he was in his room, pacing anxiously. Sirius Black. The man who had attacked him was Sirius Black. A murderer. Why had he attacked him? What did he want?

 _Tell me what you did to him._

Unbidden, Black's words echoed in his mind. Toshiro felt like there was great importance in that short sentence, but he just didn't understand. Who was he? Why did he think Toshiro would know where the person was? He rubbed his eyes and sighed, regretting the fact that the ice would have melted by now. Why, oh why did he let him go?

With a small groan he gave up and settled back down to work on his paper. He would understand, eventually. But for now, he needed to get this done.

* * *

The trail ended in a small clearing by a slow stream. He knelt, reaching one hand out to touch a large portion of crushed grass by the base of a tree. A flash of ruby caught his attention, standing out in the emerald grass, and he quickly leaned down to see several drops of blood staining the blades. Puzzled, he sat back on his haunches.

There had been a fight here, obviously. Looking around, he saw no other signs of it, however, so he stood and headed across the clearing, frustrated that his one lead had turned up empty. The reiatsu signature – it had been so clear! He was sure it was…

There! In the dirt by the stream, there were prints!

He got down on one knee and traced the print. Dog. A large one. He looked around once more, stooping low to the ground to find any more prints, heart leaping when he found a set leaving the clearing. But – they were not dog. They were human. His brows drew together as he straightened, staring down. What was going on here? A dog and a human – likely the small boy, judging by the size and depth of the tracks – had entered the clearing, but the boy and a human had left. And the dog certainly wasn't still there.

He swung his head around, searching the park in a fruitless effort. His target wasn't here, and he had no idea where the boy was. His prints had disappeared once he reached the cement city. His only choice was to follow the human prints.

He set off at a quick pace. Next time the boy would not elude him so easily.

* * *

 **Well, that's the end of that. A lot happened in this chapter, setting up future events. It may not seem like it, but the elements are there…**

 **The dwarfs are mentioned only twice (I could only find two references) in the books. Once when Lockhart hires them as love letter carriers and once, very briefly, in the Leaky Cauldron.**

 **Regarding the dwarfs…I do not like the spelling that J.K. Rowling chose for her books. I much prefer 'dwarves' to 'dwarfs', but in the interest of consistency I've kept the spelling in what she originally wrote. Still, it's hard for me to remember not to type 'ves'. Oh well.**

 **Comments? Questions? Random thoughts?**


	5. Chapter 5

**My apologizes for how long it took me to get this chapter up. I was without Internet for pretty much the whole week, and I couldn't even work on the story until I got home late today. Anyway...yeah.**

 **I'm writing this slower because I want to get more details in it and go more in depth. I'm currently working on a LoTR story (see my profile for summary of the story) and I'm doing the same with that, except I'm only going to post that story when I get most or all of the story done.**

 **All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

The next morning, after a long night of work, Toshiro went back to the bookstore to see how his anti-spell would do. The manager welcomed him in and watched, a bit skeptical, as Toshiro approached the books' cage, setting the paper down on the table in front of him and drawing his wand from his boot. With a deep breath he flicked his wand down, right, left, and back up, setting a standard four-four tempo. The beat was intrinsic in that particular animating spell; it wove throughout the magic binding its components together in a beautifully crafted piece.

Toshiro continued moving his wand up and down, left and right as the anti-spell worked, letting the music control his actions. This type of casting was different from normal, and required a deeper connection to the spell than the original. The animating charm was full of life, vibrant and quivering with energy. The de-animating spell seemed flat and hollow, consuming the animating spell and filling itself up. He let it work itself out, with no idea if this was what was supposed to happen or not. He had never done this before; indeed, he had never read about this in any book in the school library. It had just come to him, but now that he was actually preforming it he was worried.

The anti-spell seemed to draw on his own magic to draw out the animating spell from the books, leaving them limp and dull in their cage. Slowly, as he worked and his wand lifted and fell, their snapping and snarling abated, and one by one they dropped to the bottom of the cage, still twisted as if in agony as their very life was being drawn out of them.

And, to some degree, it was.

He could _feel_ it, feel the energy that had kept the normally inanimate objects moving with seemingly minds of their own, and could _feel_ their strength leaving them until they could no longer keep themselves moving. Eventually they lay twitching in a final, useless struggle against the higher power that was taking away their lives. Against him.

With a sharp gasp Toshiro snapped his wand harshly down and away, cutting off the anti-spell before it could finish. He swayed on his feet and leaned forward against the table, hands flat on its surface for balance. In their cage the books quivered, each page shaking itself out before straightening and untangling itself from its brethren.

Toshiro, his arms shaking and knees no longer able to support him, sank to the ground and let his head loll back against the wall, panting as if he had just shunpoed for miles on end without rest. His wand slipped from weakened fingers and rolled along the floor until it came to a halt against the wall. He felt drained as if it were his own energy, not that of the books', that had been drained.

 _"Master…"_ Hyourinmaru whispered weakly. Toshiro found that he did not have the energy or will to answer.

Everything around him faded until he was floating in a strange world without color or light or any sensation at all. He could stretch out a hand – was that a hand? – and not feel himself moving. He felt sluggish, incapable of even rudimentary thought. If, in that moment, he were asked his own name he may not have been able to answer.

And yet, even in that dead, lifeless world, he could sense an abyss from which there was no return. He could not see it or feel it, but it was _there_ , a boundary and a warning far enough away that he did not fear tipping over the edge but yet close enough that he knew it was a place he should never enter. The emptiness seemed to pour from it: a roiling mass without a physical presence.

As his thoughts and wits returned to him he began to panic, desperate to get away from the pit. He fought, and the invisible bonds keeping him in that dead land shattered, allowing him to draw away and slip back into the living world.

Eventually he became aware of hands on his shoulders that were shaking him slightly, and a loud, annoying voice repeating something. If he concentrated hard enough he could just make out his own name, along with other words in English. Strange, that they should be speaking in English…

"Hitsugaya! Hitsugaya! Wake up! _Please_ wake up!"

The voice sounded panicky, as if the person along with it actually wanted him to open his eyes. But that couldn't be right…it wasn't someone he knew…it was not Granny, nor was it Momo or Rangiku. Of all the people in his life, those might be the only ones who actually cared about him…He started to slip away again, and the sensation of floating returned.

Suddenly the bleak inter-world he was hovering in flashed with a blinding, rippling light, and he saw a form from which the lights seemed to emanate. He squinted, trying to make out what it was, but the light blurred its edges and he could not tell what it was. Then the light faded, and he was left trembling.

He opened his eyes to see the face of the bookshop manager inches away from his own, and he instinctively brought an arm up to push him away. But his limb felt heavy, as if made of lead, and he let it fall back down to his lap.

The manager, seeing his eyes open, pulled back slightly. "Thank goodness!" he cried, shoulders slumping. "I didn't know what I was going to – you just collapsed, and – are you all right?"

Toshiro didn't answer immediately, and was taking stock of his body as he would after a battle, making sure each limb would at least move, if not quickly. Other than a deep, unnatural weariness, he seemed to be intact. "I am," he said at last, voice no more than a whisper. He turned his head, looking for his wand, and saw a glimpse of silver and blue out of the corner of his eye. He reached out a slow hand for it, and was surprised when his fingers met cold wood. Looking over, he saw that the wall and floor directly around his wand had a thin layer of frost coating them. It immediately disappeared when he lifted his wand, but even that was colder than normal – and it usually carried a chill even on the hottest of days.

"W-what happened?" the manager asked, scooting back to give him room as Toshiro carefully gathered his feet under him and stood, keeping one hand pressed to the wall. He slid his wand into his boot and straightened, twisting to lean his body against the wall.

"I…am not quite sure," he said, blinking lazily and drawing the rest of the room into focus. "I shall not do that again anytime soon, however."

"Are you – should I call for a medi-wizard?" The manager hovered close to him, looking worried.

"No," Toshiro answered. "Just – just give me a minute."

"All right." The manager drew back reluctantly, disappearing briefly behind the counter and reappearing moments later with a stool in hand. "Here. Sit on this, at least."

Toshiro sat gratefully, unsure if his legs would continue to support his weight. He held out his hands for a moment before shoving them into his pockets, concerned with the way they shook. Then again, his whole body seemed to be shivering, although he didn't know why. It wasn't as if he was any colder than normal.

Then he looked up at the manager, who was still studying him nervously. "It seems I need to pay you for a book after all," he said, and the manager blinked once, staring at him for a moment. Then his mouth formed a perfect 'o' and he turned swiftly to peer into the cage.

"Well, you got 'em to slow down, at least." He straightened, pulling on his gloves. "Tell you what – I'll give you a discount. Three Knuts off."

"Thank you," Toshiro sighed, leaning back against the wall again. He was just going to sit there for a bit…

"Hitsugaya? Hitsugaya!"

"What?" he snapped, opening his eyes to glare at the manager, who was hovering in front of him again. The manager held out one of the _Monster_ books, held shut with a length of twine wrapped three times about it.

"H-here. You…fell asleep."

Toshiro stared at the man for a full minute before reaching out and taking the book. He did _not_ fall asleep; he never fell asleep in public, least of all in the living world! "Thank you," he said stiffly, dipping a hand into his bag and dropping a few coins onto the manager's hand. Then he stood shakily, testing his strength, folded the parchment with his work on the anti-spell and put it into his pocket, and started making his way to the door. The manager dogged his steps until he closed the door behind him and stood for a moment taking in Diagon Alley.

It seemed busier than normal – more full of light and noise and people. He sighed and braced himself for the long journey back to the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

After so many years of working in the pub, Tom could tell almost instantly when the door – front or back – was opened, and had learned to keep an eye on the new customer. So, when the back door that led to Diagon Alley eased open, he quickly glanced at the person before returning his gaze to his previous work and having to do a double take when he saw who it was.

Never before had he seen the boy so…exhausted. Tom stood in the corner of the pub watching in a mixture of fascination and confusion as Hitsugaya entered, looked around, and slowly trudged up the stairs, looking like every step was a mountain that he had to climb.

The only way Tom could describe what the boy looked like was if he was somehow dimmed; the brightness that he'd only noticed now that it was gone having disappeared. His skin seemed almost gray, his usually perfect posture was ruined by slumped shoulders, and even his white hair was hanging limply. All in all, his entire presence had changed into one who had seen or done too much. It was as if he were more than triple his age, and the simple bone-weary aching had settled into his body much too soon and all at once.

It was not natural.

Tom frowned, straightening as much as he could and shuffling to sit behind the counter, pulling out a parchment and quill. He scribbled out a quick message, detailing it to one person he knew would care and do something about the boy's condition. While the children were under his roof he had an obligation to care for them, and this was the second time that Hitsugaya had come back with something wrong with him.

He set the now-sealed letter down and looked up as a new customer came in. He would send it off later, once the lunch rush settled down.

* * *

Toshiro was very glad when no one stopped him on the way back to the Leaky Cauldron. He certainly wasn't in the mood for a confrontation, and wasn't even sure if he had the energy to defend himself if it came to that. So, when he managed to get all the way to his room without having to talk to anyone, he rejoiced.

This rejoicing came in the form of collapsing on his bed as soon as he entered the room.

In all honesty, he wasn't sure if he would even make it to the bed. The last few feet seemed like a journey of epic proportions: the level hardwood turned into a boggy marsh, and mud clung to his shoes at every step, making him have to drag his feet up and out of it just to take a step forward.

He was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

* * *

Toshiro jolted awake to an incessant knocking. He groaned, rolling onto his side to face the door, and in doing so found that his whole body hurt. He felt like he was being pressed and rolled and frozen and deep-fried all at once.

"What?" he called, irritated, and the knocking ceased.

"Hitsugaya?" Tom's voice came through the wood. "You alright in there?"

 _No,_ Toshiro thought, but he took a deep breath to answer, "Yes. Why?"

"Well, you haven't been down since yesterday, and I was starting to wonder if something happened."

 _Yesterday?_ Toshiro rubbed his eyes and flipped open his soul phone, staring when he saw the date. _I slept through the whole day!_

"I'm fine," Toshiro called, tried to sit up, decided it wasn't worth the effort, and collapsed back on the bed. "Could you bring me tea?"

"Of course." Footsteps headed down the hall, and Toshiro closed his eyes, sighing.

He was _never_ doing that again.

The tea revived him a little, though not much. After drinking it he heaved himself out of bed to the restroom, then collapsed back in bed and fell asleep once more.

Some people dreamed and some did not. Some walked in landscapes of their own twisted creation, seeing lands and people that would otherwise go undiscovered. They got to explore beautiful places, dive to the deepest depths, and soar with the fiercest creatures of the sky. Then there were those who did not dream, who spent their nights in darkness and with nothing to see as a manifestation of their minds.

He dreamed.

His dreams were not of the peaceful quiet or the wild freedom of the open air, nor with the graceful giants of the deeps. He did not walk with those of never-seen lands or under boughs of deep emerald. No, his dreams were red, filled with dripping blood and the cries of the dead.

He dreamed of his sister on her hospital bed, her cold hand in his.

He dreamed of his vice-captain bleeding out in his arms, of her blood spreading like water upon the icy ground.

He dreamed of his grandmother shivering in the night, creeping ice slowly smothering her as she slept.

He dreamed of the men and women under his command, those alive and those who had died in the line of duty.

The dreams had only gotten worse – more bloody and despairing – after Tom Riddle had forced him to relive his memories, and now Hyourinmaru had taken up the job of protecting his mind, pulling him away and into his inner world when the dreams became too much.

He did not appear this time, and Toshiro spent the night chasing after subordinates who died just before he could reach them.

* * *

When the sun rose over London, dispelling the gathering darkness, Toshiro stirred on his bed, turning his face away from the window once more. He had started to sink back into the darkness when there was an odd scratching sound at his door and Athena, perched by the open window, screeched in alarm. He sat up, instantly alert, and reached for the wand on the nightstand by the bed. Sliding down, he padded silently to the door, reached for the knob, and tugged it open in one savage jerk, wand raised and a stunning spell ready.

There was no one there.

Puzzled, he dropped his wand, but then a loud _meow_ made him jump, and he pointed his wand down, straight at a large ginger cat with bowed legs and a squashed face. It was staring grumpily up at him, meowed once more, and stepped forward to twine around him and butt its head against his leg.

"Where did you come from?" Toshiro murmured, crouching down and letting the cat sniff the back of his hand. "And why did you come to me? You would not want me, I assure you." The cat licked his knuckles, its hooked tongue catching against skin that not long ago had been bleeding from when he put it into a wall. He ran a hand through its thick fur, and its spine arched into his hand. He sighed.

"Fine. I'll go see if Tom has any food for you." He picked the cat up, a little surprised at its weight, and set off down the hall with it, pausing only to close his door.

Once down the stairs, the cat wriggled out of his arms and fell with a thump to the floor, instantly darting off. He set off after it, a little concerned that it would escape out the door, but he needn't have worried, since the cat ran straight to a familiar girl with bushy brown hair.

"Crookshanks!" the girl cried, hugging the cat tight. "Where did you go? I was looking all over for you!"

"It came to my door," Toshiro said, standing behind the girl. "I came down to see if I could secure food for it."

"He," the girl said, then turned. "Hitsugaya!" She lunged at him, hugging him tightly, and Crookshanks yowled warningly, protesting at being squished in between two humans. Hermione let him go, scratching the cat soothingly. "Sorry," she said, then looked up at Toshiro, a wide grin on her face. "It's good to see you! Did you get taller?"

"Mm," Toshiro grunted distractedly, looking at the cat. "When did you get it?"

"He!" Hermine cried, pressing her face down into the cat's fur. "Crookshanks is male."

"Very well, but my question still stands."

Hermione opened her mouth to answer but at that moment Harry appeared next to her, and grinned at Toshiro. "Hey, you're up," he said, and Toshiro gave him a dry look. The boy was unfazed. "Come over and say hi; the Weasleys are here!"

The next few minutes were filled with greetings: the twins grinning and glancing at each other slyly, Mr. Weasley asking him something about the operation of a freezer, Ginny giving him a small wave, Percy shaking his hand, and Mrs. Weasley pulling him into a fierce hug.

"You're much too thin," she said, scanning him with a critical eye. "Have you been eating at _all_?"

"I assure you I have," Toshiro said, though his protests fell on deaf ears. "I would not be alive if I had not been eating."

And then there was Ron, as tall and long-nosed as ever, standing awkwardly in the back. His eyes met Toshiro's, and Ron motioned to the corner of the room that was partially hidden by pillars – the same one that Tom had spoken to him in before. Ron was waiting there when Toshiro finally managed to slip away from the Weasleys. They stood silently for a few moments, staring at each other uncomfortably. Toshiro watched Ron stonily, not willing to be the first to break.

Finally Ron cracked. "He seems fine," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Toshiro raised an eyebrow. The taller boy continued. "I mean, you didn't – he's not…"

Toshiro suddenly saw what he was trying to say, and his eyes narrowed. He clenched his hands. "I told you I would not let harm come to the boy," he said angrily. "I do not go back on my word."

The band of ice around his arm contracted suddenly.

Ron looked away. "Yeah…Look, I just wanted to say – I've been thinking, and – How 'bout we just start over?"

Toshiro tilted his head to the side. "Start…over?" he echoed questioningly.

Hyourinmaru spoke after his long silence. _"I believe he means to apologize."_ His voice was low and slow; he was tired, obviously.

 _"Really?"_ Toshiro considered the red-headed boy. _"He could do a much better job of it."_ Hyourinmaru rumbled and curled up to go back to sleep.

"I agree," Toshiro said finally, and held out his hand. Ron stared at it, looking startled. "My name is Toshiro Hitsugaya. I am a Shinigami."

Ron took his hand, skin warm. "Ron Weasley. Student at Hogwarts." Toshiro nodded curtly, and Ron released his hand, turning and walking away to rejoin his family. Toshiro followed, and for a few minutes forgot his weariness as the Weasleys told him tales of their time in Egypt.


	6. Chapter 6

**I didn't realize just how long it had been since I updated. My life's been really busy lately, and until about halfway through May it's going to get even busier. I'll try to still update. Anyway, here's the next chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Later that night after a long dinner, Toshiro was lying on his bed listening to the racket of the Weasleys packing. The sun had long ago set, but even the night could not banish the warmth of summer. He had the window open to allow airflow, and also so Athena could come and go as she wished.

The avian swooped in now, as if summoned, and landed on one bedpost. She chirped, fluttering her wings, and Toshiro sat up, moving over and stretching out a hand to scratch her head. She leaned into his head, trilling softly. He smiled then looked up sharply as a loud, angry yell came from a room down the hall.

He leaned against the wall in the hall and listened as Ron and Percy argued. Apparently Percy had lost some kind of badge and thought Ron had taken it, though Ron's frustrated, open voice said otherwise. Letting a smirk curve his lips, Toshiro pushed off from the wall and made his way down the hall to the stairs, intending to get a cup of Tom's tea. He still felt the effects of the failed anti-spell, and had found that Tom's tea worked nicely to bolster his energy.

Just as he was passing a small, closed-off parlor, he heard voices through the thin walls, and paused, recognizing the inflections of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. He stood, listening, prepared to flee if they were doing anything that he did not want to hear.

"…don't think we should," Mrs. Weasley was saying, voice shriller than normal. "He doesn't need to know."

"Molly! _Sirius Black_ is after him! How can we _not_ tell him?" Mr. Weasley protested. "He needs to protect himself if it comes to that!"

"Dumbledore will protect him! Harry will be perfectly safe."

 _Harry?_ Toshiro frowned, tilting his head. _Why is Black after Potter?_

"You can't tell him," Mrs. Weasley continued, then spoke over her husband's objections. "The _Minister_ didn't tell him, so why do you think you should?"

Footsteps broke Toshiro's concentration, and he looked up to see Harry turn the corner, stop in surprise, then look over at the door as the adults' argument continued. He raised one eyebrow at Toshiro who shrugged, completely unabashed to be caught eavesdropping. Harry rolled his eyes and made to move on, but Toshiro raised a hand, blocking his path. He stepped forward and whispered, "No. Listen. You need to hear this."

With that he stepped back and leaned against the wall, waiting for the Weasleys to finish their conversation.

When the chairs scraped back, Harry and Toshiro hurried up the stairs, Harry going wide-eyed into Ron and Percy's room and Toshiro going into his. He sat on his bed, Athena fluttering over to sit next to him so he could continue to scratch her. He obliged, pausing only to look up when Harry came into the room and shut the door behind him. He stood for a moment looking at Toshiro.

"What the bloody hell!" Harry exclaimed suddenly, startling Athena. She gave the boy an annoyed look and chirped angrily at him. Toshiro rubbed her head.

"Don't scare her," he said reprovingly. Harry scoffed.

"Don't scare her. Don't scare _me_! Black's trying to kill me!"

"It certainly seems that way," Toshiro said calmly, lightly stroking Athena's wings. But Harry wasn't listening to him. He was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, ranting and worrying, and Toshiro found himself starting to fall asleep. He yawned.

"Are you even _listening_ me?!"

"Sure I'm listening." Toshiro stood, Athena perched on his raised forearm. "What are you going to do about it?"

Harry stopped pacing. "Huh?"

Toshiro laughed, going to the window and letting Athena soar into the sky. "What are you going to do about Black?"

"Black."

"The one who is trying to kill you."

"I know he's trying…"

 _For the love of –_ "I _know_ ," Toshiro cried, resisting the urge to repeatedly hit his head against the wall. "Just calm down!"

Harry stared at him for a moment, confused, then closed his mouth with an audible _snap_. Toshiro took a deep, stabilizing breath and sat on his bed again. "Just listen to me," he said, and Harry nodded. "And _don't_ say anything before I'm done."

* * *

The morning that the Weasleys, Granger, Potter, and Hitsugaya were to leave for Hogwarts was surprisingly calm, unlike the nights before. Toshiro was the first down, as usual, and was reading quietly in the corner with his trunk shrunk and in his pocket. Athena, who hated being cooped up in her cage, was perched on the back of the chair next to his head, occasionally dipping her beak to tug at his hair. Her cage was also miniaturized and in his pocket.

A few minutes after Toshiro had settled in his seat Mr. Weasley came down, gave Toshiro a friendly nod, and went off to talk to Tom. Several minutes later he came back into the room and settled into a chair with the _Daily Prophet_ and a cup of tea. Mrs. Weasley bustled down a while later, gave her husband a kiss, and talked quietly with him until Hermione and Ginny appeared, lugging their suitcases into the room. Crookshanks darted down the stairs before them, long tail waving.

After this there were simply too many people and too much noise for Toshiro to listen to their conversations, and he was beyond caring what they had to say. The adults wouldn't say anything important with the children around, and the children didn't know anything important _to_ say. So he stayed tucked in his corner reading a section in the book about a particularly interesting spell that could animate water.

He remembered the first time that he'd found the book, which was last year when Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy had gotten into a brawl in the library, knocking many books off their shelves. He had picked up one and glanced at its title as he was about to slide it back into its slot: _Water-Based Charms and Spells_. The Weasleys were leaving, and he had quickly shoved it into a pocket, deactivating the alarm spell and shamelessly walking out of the store with it.

He intended to pay for it. Eventually.

"They're here!" someone called, and he looked up in surprise. The wizards hurried around gathering their belongings and stuffing last-minute breakfasts into their mouths, so he stood and, keeping his page with a finger, followed them out. There were two black Ministry cars waiting outside with drivers wearing suits of deep emerald but otherwise looking amazingly bland. Toshiro was squished into a car with Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Percy. Athena he let fly free; she could find the school on her own well enough.

The drive, although there was an uncomfortable silence, with Harry and Hermione looking between Ron and Toshiro – Percy sat obliviously between Harry and Ron – was otherwise calm. Soon the cars reached the station and let them out, and the Ministry drivers found them trolleys to put their trunks on. Their driver gave Toshiro an odd look, but he simply ignored him and walked into the station.

Platform nine and three-quarters was, as usual, busy and crowded and noisy. Toshiro wound his way through the crowd, eventually finding an empty compartment on the train. He sat and balanced his book on his knees, intent on reading until arrival at school.

"Sorry, but – do you mind if we share an apartment?"

The voice, low and tired and obviously not a child's, made him look up. Hovering in the doorway was an exhausted-looking young man with grown hairs dotting his mostly-brown mane. He wore shabby, limp clothes and had an awkward half-smile on his face. Toshiro's gaze flicked down to his case, but could not see the lettering from where he was seated.

"This is a free country, I am told," he said, and the man blinked once before entering fully and heaving his trunk up onto the rack. Then he sat down opposite Toshiro.

"I'm Lupin – well, Professor Lupin, now, I suppose," he said, holding out a hand to Toshiro. He took it, preferring to bow, but – then he would have had to get up.

"Hitsugaya. You are the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

"Correct." Lupin looked faintly satisfied. "Are you a first year?"

Toshiro's perpetual frown, which he normally dropped when talking to those above his rank, reappeared. "Third," he said shortly. Lupin's eyes momentarily widened and ran over Toshiro again, reassessing.

"I am sorry," he said, sounding as if he meant it. "You do not have a trunk, and I assumed that you were Muggleborn."

"My trunk is in my pocket," Toshiro answered, then added, "I'm used to that by now."

"Still, I should know better than assume."

"We're all human," Toshiro said, faint amusement curling the corners of his lips, but was surprised when a quick expression of something – annoyance? wistfulness? – crossed the Professor's expression. "Humans make mistakes," Toshiro finished softly, studying the man more closely, but this time no expressions betrayed his inner emotions.

 _Perhaps I imagined it._

 _"No, I saw it too,"_ a certain ice dragon rumbled.

 _"Hyourinmaru! You haven't spoken since the failed anti-spell. Are you all right?"_

 _"As you have recovered so have I,"_ the zanpakuto answered. _"If longer. I have been sleeping for most of the time since."_

 _"I don't blame you. That's what I did for the first couple of days."_

 _"Master, do not do that again."_

 _"Agreed."_

Toshiro looked up from his sudden mental conversation to find that Professor Lupin had already fallen asleep. He went back to reading.

* * *

The lands outside were blurred as the Hogwarts Express surged past, its repetitive sounds of the pistons and gears churning creating a low rumble of background noise. Toshiro sat with one leg on top of the other and his book propped up against them. He did his best to ignore Ron, Harry, and Hermione, who had joined him in the compartment when the train left the station. Harry had started to tell them what he'd overheard, but Toshiro had quickly shushed him, motioning to the Professor sleeping across from him. After that their conversation soon turned to trivial matters.

Toshiro only looked up when they said his name, and found that they were all staring at him. Concentrating as hard on his book as he was, he didn't know what they wanted and there was an awkward silence in the compartment for several moments. Finally, Hermione cleared her throat.

"Do you have your Hogsmead papers signed?" she asked, and Toshiro nodded, flipping a page over.

"Of course." Although he outwardly did not change his expression, on the inside he winced. It had been _so_ embarrassing to ask the Head-Captain to sign the papers. At least he hadn't had to do it in front of all the Captains. He would never hear the end of it.

"Harry didn't."

"Why?" Toshiro frowned at the boy who picked at the edge of his shirt.

"My family wouldn't sign it – look, don't worry about it, all right? I'll be fine."

"Better luck next year," Toshiro said, going back to his book and doing his best to tune them out again.

Eventually the witch with the food cart came around and there was a brief argument on whether or not to wake Professor Lupin. Ron seemed to be of the opinion that they should make sure he was just sleeping and not dead, but the witch told them not to bother him. "I'll be up front if he wakes up and is hungry," she said, smiling, then turned to Toshiro. "Would you like anything to eat, dear?"

Toshiro frowned, looking over her cart, which was stuffed full of pastries and pies, small, chewable candies, chocolates with gooey centers, chocolate frogs, and something that looked vaguely like gummy bears. "Do you have anything healthy?"

The witch stared at him, at a loss for words. Toshiro sighed. "Never mind."

Bewildered, the witch moved on to the next compartment.

"Mum's right," Ron said to Toshiro, the end of something red and orange sticking out of the corner of his mouth. "You're too skinny."

"I am an acceptable weight."

 _"Even Unohana says that you need to eat more,"_ Hyourinmaru said. Toshiro ignored him.

"You two seem to be getting along," Hermione said, brushing a wrapper off her lap. "Did you make up?"

Toshiro was silent, intending to let Ron answer, but when the red-head was silent he sighed and nodded. "We did."

"Good!" Hermione beamed at them. "I'm glad, but – Ron, why'd you change your mind?"

Ron shifted in his seat, but before he could answer the door slid open and Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle stood smirking in the doorway. Before they could say anything Toshiro sighed, stood, and walked over to them. "Why are you here?" he asked wearily. Malfoy's smirk twitched, and he looked past Toshiro at Ron.

"Heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," he said. "Did your mother die of–"

Toshiro shut the door in his face. The Trio stared at Toshiro as he made his way back to his seat. He shrugged. "They weren't here for anything," he offered. Hermione giggled.

The train chugged steadily north. Outside fogged windows the sun had set, and lanterns set in the corridor and above the train rack flickered on, bathing them in golden light. Ron was grumbling about being hungry, and Toshiro couldn't stand to listen to him anymore. He was getting fidgety, which was odd, since he could normally sit still for hours without problems.

"I'm going to get some air," he announced, standing and dislodging Crookshanks from his place on his lap. The cat got off with a loud protest, but Toshiro ignored him and stepped out of their apartment, making his way down the corridor.

Their section of the train wasn't far from the caboose, which opened out into an open-air patio. Now the area was deserted since most couldn't stand the cold air, but he welcomed it, and sat on the railing, swinging his legs over so that they were over the open air. The tracks were a blur under his feet, and if he looked up the clouds covered the stars.

Toshiro stood, balancing on the metal of the railing, and stretched his senses. He didn't _sense_ any Hollows, but…why was he feeling like there was one near? The rain had lessened and was lightly misting his face, enough to cool him down but not enough to slick his hair into his eyes.

"I doubt you are allowed up there."

Toshiro whirled around and crouched, hand finding the handle of his wand before he realized who it was that had spoken. Luna Lovegood stood halfway between him and the door, looking even paler in the flickering light of the lanterns. Toshiro relaxed and stood up again.

"I don't care," he answered, turning his head to scan the landscape behind the speeding train. He shifted his feet to more easily sway to the movement of the machine. "I can do what I like."

Luna smiled, walking forward to stand beside him. She put her hands on the railing and leaned over it to look at the dark sky above and let out a long breath. A cloud of mist formed before getting swept away by the wind. Then, with a quick glance up at Toshiro and a grin, she shifted her hands farther apart and boosted herself up to crouch on the railing.

"What are you doing?" Toshiro asked, putting his hands on her shoulders to steady her as she stood. When she looked at him he saw that her eyes were shining, reflecting the muted moon above.

"Doing what I like," she said. Toshiro scowled.

"It's dangerous. You could fall."

"So could you," she pointed out, and he glared at her.

"I would not," he said indignantly. _I would not be much of a Shinigami if I fell,_ he thought dryly.

"Besides, you won't let me fall," Luna continued, completely ignoring his glower.

"I could."

"You won't."

Toshiro tilted his head, studying the girl. "You are very confident about that, yet this is only the second time that we have met."

She shrugged and wobbled, causing Toshiro's grip to tighten on her shoulders. Her hands came up to grip his arms, and he had the sudden thought that this was a _very_ intimate position. She was perhaps a foot away from him, and to an outsider they appeared to be holding on to each other. He could feel his face reddening as he took a small step back. She looked at him, puzzled, when he cleared his throat.

"I'm getting down. You should go first." Nodding, she turned and jumped down, then turned to help stabilize him. She froze, eyes wide and fixed on something over his shoulder. Fear filled her expression and Toshiro spun, ready to face whatever Hollow had appeared.

It was not a Hollow.

Floating in the air behind the train was a large creature in a tattered black cloak that whirled about. Its cowl was up, covering a dead, withered face. Its mouth was open: a large, empty hole that oozed with darkness. Toshiro felt his muscles lock as he remembered the abyss that he'd seen after the failed anti-spell. He couldn't move, couldn't do anything but watch as one skeletal hand reached up, up towards him, to grab him and pull him off the railing. He would fall, body dashed to pieces on the track, but still he couldn't move, couldn't get away from the grasping hand.

A finger touched his forehead and a chill ran down his spine. Flashes of white and blue burst behind his eyes, and a rasping voice echoed in his mind: _Prince of Ice…_

Then suddenly he was falling backward, and a warm body was beside him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. As if woken from a trance he scrambled up, pulled Luna to her feet, and shoved her before him back into the train. "There," he whispered, opening the nearest compartment door and bundling them both in before locking the door behind them.

"What _was_ that?" Luna asked, completely ignoring the bewildered students staring at them. Toshiro shivered, one of a very few times in his life, and shrugged, opening his mouth to say something when the lights flicked off, plunging them into darkness.

Instantly there was chaos in their compartment, with children shouting and shoving and panicking. Then light bloomed in the dark, and Toshiro could see that Luna had lit the tip of her wand. "Be quiet!" she said to a first year, who stared up at her with wide eyes.

Toshiro held his breath, feeling that… _thing_ pass by their compartment. He looked over at Luna, and saw that her eyes had turned silver in the light of her _Lumos_.

Finally, after several long minutes of silence the same presence passed by again and the lights turned back on. Luna doused her wand and slipped it into her pocket, looking troubled. With a clank and a sudden lurch the train was back in motion, slowly increasing its pace.

"I'm going back to my compartment," Toshiro said to Luna, and she nodded mutely as he turned and left, hurrying down a suddenly crowded hallway. Students had stepped out of their compartments all over the train, talking and wondering about what had just happened. Toshiro pushed his way through the crowd, a feeling that something was _wrong_ , and he needed to get back.

When he eventually reached the small room that he'd originally been in, he found a much different scene than he had left. The first thing he noticed was that Professor Lupin was awake and was in the middle of handing something to Ginny. He looked up sharply when the door opened, but relaxed marginally when he saw that it was only Toshiro. Then he noticed that Harry was stretched out on the ground, pale and clearly unconscious.

"The creature did this?" he asked, gesturing at Harry, and the others in the room – at some point Ginny and Neville had come in – nodded.

"Here," Lupin said, handing him a square of something. He eyed it critically, identified it as chocolate, and looked scornfully up at the professor. "It'll help," the man promised, but Toshiro handed it back.

"I don't eat chocolate," he said, voice low, then crouched to place two fingers below Harry's jaw. "What was it?"

"A dementor," Hermione said grimly.

* * *

By the time the train reached the school the word had spread: a dementor, one of the foul guards of Azkaban that were supposed to be watching for Sirius Black, had made its way onto the train. The students walked in tight clumps, whispering uneasily. Unlike any year thus far, the beginning feast was bound to be edged with fear.

Toshiro followed the group, watching for any signs of dementors. The feeling he'd had before seeing the dementor on the train – it was similar to the presence of Hollows', but not exactly the same. The dementor made him uncomfortable and edgy, while Hollows simply had a _bad_ presence. It was more of a feeling and couldn't accurately be put into words.

Thestrals, as usual, were pulling the carriages, and he gave one a friendly pat before settling himself in a seat. Soon they arrived at the school and he joined the throng of children pouring through the doors. He had angled himself towards the Great Hall when a loud, stern voice echoed over their heads: "Potter! Granger! Hitsugaya! I would like to speak to you all!"

Toshiro pushed his way through the crowd and gave her a questioning look. "I just need to speak to you three," she said once the three named had fought their way over. "Go on to the feast, Weasley." Ron watched them go with a disgruntled expression as she led them to her office.

"Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to inform us that you fell ill on the train, Mr. Potter," she said. Harry rolled his eyes but before he could say anything to land him in trouble the school nurse came in, looking unsurprised to see that her patient was, once again, the Boy-Who-Lived.

"I'm _fine_!" Harry finally burst out after the nurse examined him. "And Professor Lupin already gave me chocolate."

"Very well then," McGonagall said, peering down at the boy through her spectacles. "Go on to the Great Hall, then. I just need a private word with Miss Granger and Mr. Hitusgaya about their course schedules, then they will join you." Once the door closed behind him, she turned to the two remaining students. "You have both applied for more classes than our schedule allows," she said. Hermione immediately protested.

"Professor! I _can't_ drop any of them! I have to–"

"I am well aware that you have no desire to drop classes," McGonagall chuckled. "Your thirst for knowledge is well known." Hermione sank back, red-faced. "Mr. Hitsugaya – although you are not as outgoing as Miss Granger, you are just as intelligent and studious. We are going to allow you both to take the classes that you have requested." At this Hermione bounced happily.

"However," McGonagall continued, fixing a stern look on the girl. "I must warn you that you are not to discuss _how_ you get around the time restraint."

"How will we?" Toshiro asked. The professor was stalling, and it irritated him.

"Time-Turners," McGonagall answered, went to her desk, unlocked a drawer, and withdrew two golden necklaces with hourglass pendants swinging at the bottom. "They allow the user to–"

"Turn back time." Hermione breathed. "I didn't think they really existed!"

McGonagall sighed. "You have heard of it, then. And you, Hitsugaya?"

He nodded. McGonagall sighed again. "They are _supposed_ to be a secret – but I am sure you both came by this information completely legally?"

They nodded again, but Toshiro thought, _Mostly legal._

 _Completely illegal,_ Hyourinmaru snorted.

* * *

The sorting was already over by the time they entered the Great Hall. The food was out and the students were digging in, a loud buzz of talking in the air. Toshiro slid into a seat across from Harry and Ron and reached for a pot of soup.

"What did McGonagall want?" Ron asked. Toshiro shrugged, blowing on his soup to cool it down.

"She wanted to make sure we were feeling all right after the dementor," Hermione said, sitting next to Toshiro.

"But Ginny and Neville and I were there, too. She doesn't care about us?"

"Maybe she'll call you guys in later?"

"Maybe," Ron muttered.

"Did we miss anything?" Hermione reached for a bowl of potatoes.

"The dementors are here on 'Ministry of Magic business'," Ron said, screwing up his face. "Right good job they're doing."

"Did he say why they were on the train?"

"Just said they were searching it."

"What about _what_ they are?" Toshiro asked, leaning forward and fixing Ron with a stare. "Did he say anything about how they came to be?"

Ron shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "No."

There was a long, awkward silence before Harry spoke up. "Oh, that guy who beat off the dementor? He's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"I know," Toshiro said. "How did he defend against the dementor?"

"I don't know. There was a bright light, but I don't remember the spell."

 _To the library,_ Toshiro thought. Hyourinmaru chuckled.

"Hagrid's the Care of Magical Creatures teacher," Ron piped up.

"What happened to Kettleburn?"

"Retired."

* * *

The rest of the meal passed uneventfully, although afterwards the Trio insisted on congratulating Hagrid on his promotion. Toshiro decided to pass on this activity and instead made his way with the rest of the Gryffindors to their tower. Upon reaching the common room he immediately went to his dormitory and closed the curtains around his bed. He pulled out his soul phone and started typing out a report. Soul Society would need to know about the dementors.

Once he had sent the document he put away the phone and laid back on the bed, closing his eyes and sinking into his inner world. Instantly the warmth of the dorm room was stripped away by a biting wind. He welcomed it and sat down on the snow, waiting for his zanpakuto partner.

The dragon soon appeared, circling far above in the clouds before diving down and landing with a thump on the snowy turf. He curled around Toshiro, looking questioningly down at him. "You are troubled," he said, deep voice rumbling in the air. "Why?"

Toshiro looked down and ran a hand through the snow. "Prince of Ice."

Hyourinmaru snorted and pulled away from the Shinigami. "You are, in a way."

Toshiro frowned.

"I am the greatest ice zanpakuto there has, is, and will ever be," Hyourinmaru said proudly, drawing up to his full height and spreading his wings. "You command me and all the ice and water under our control. Tell me that you are not a being of ice."

"But I am not a prince," Toshiro insisted. "I am not a royal."

Hyourinmaru brought his head down close to the boy. "Perhaps." He studied Toshiro for a few moments then turned suddenly and crouched. "We shall talk about this more when you discover it." He launched into the air, quickly disappearing from sight.

Opening his eyes in the real world, Toshiro stared up at the canopy. _This is going to be an interesting year_


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm still here, I swear! *laughs nervously* Yeah...sorry about how long this has taken to get out. I've been really busy lately, and writing was relegated to the back burner. I should be getting these out faster again, hopefully.**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

As usual, Toshiro was the first person up in the morning. After a quick shower he pushed open the window and sat in the sill with his water-charming book. There was a good half hour until the others came down, so he set about to reading.

Hermione trudged down before the boys, walked over to him, and yawned.

"Good morning to you as well," Toshiro said dryly. Hermione waved a dismissive hand.

"I'm tired. Was up late studying last night."

"Studying?" Toshiro closed his book, marking the page with a finger. "Granger, it's the first day of class. We are not going to have a test."

She fixed him with a glare. "Don't you remember Professor Lockhart?"

Toshiro groaned and leaned out of the window. "Don't remind me of him. I have done my best to purge all memories of him from my mind."

"You're being dramatic."

Toshiro snorted. "Not as dramatic as he was."

Hermione groaned good-naturedly as Ron and Harry stumbled up to them, eyes bleary and glazed. " _How_ do you get up so early?" Ron groaned.

Toshiro took a breath to remind him that he was a Shinigami and therefore did not need as much sleep as humans, but swallowed his words. "I do not stay up all night eating magic fruit," he said pointedly. Ron had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Yeah, whatever. Look – you guys want to go get breakfast?"

"You always think with your stomach." Hermione elbowed Ron in the ribs as they walked out of the common room.

"That's not true. Haven't you heard that boys think with their-"

A loud shriek split the air. "Hey, Potter! The dementors are coming, Potter!" Then the Slytherin girl made a long, ear-shattering sound like forks being scraped on the bottom of bowls. Harry looked at the stone floor, his grin fading. They passed another group of Slytherins, this time with Malfoy pretending to faint. As the boy took a step back, Toshiro froze the ground underneath his feet, sending him crashing down on his rear.

Straight-faced, Toshiro let the ice dissolve as he walked into the Great Hall. When Malfoy entered later, he was greatly subdued. Breakfast was a relatively mellow affair, and the next most interesting thing happened when Professor McGonagall passed out their schedules and Ron managed to get a look at Hermione's.

"But _how_?" he kept asking as they walked to their first class, Divination. "There's just no _time_ for it!"

Toshiro shared a look with Hermione, and made a conscious effort to prevent his hand from going to the Time-Turner around his neck.

The winding staircase going up the North Tower was very long, and by the time they had to stop to allow the humans to rest, they weren't even halfway up. "There needs to be a physical education class at this school," Toshiro sighed. He leaned against the wall, watching the children huffing and puffing, hands on their knees.

"Oh…shut…up!"

Their next stop happened after their seventh staircase and the hundred and ninety-sixth step. They emerged on a long landing with only an empty painting of a plain of dying grass. "This way?" Hermione wondered, looking down the hall to the right.

Toshiro shook his head. "That's south."

"How do you know?"

"I have a good sense of direction." He paused, saw that Harry was studying the painting and Ron was still catching his breath. "Also, there's the lake."

"Really?" Hermione was leaning towards the window when a loud yell made her jump.

"Aha!" Toshiro turned to see a person in the previously-empty painting, wearing a medieval suit of armor and waving a long sword above his head. An extremely fat, dapple-gray pony was grazing nearby, watching the knight. "What villains are these," the knight continued, "that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance?"

 _Fall?_ Toshiro looked the knight over again, and this time noticed the grass stains on his knees. He must have fallen off his horse.

"We are not here to-" Toshiro started, but cut himself off as the knight gave a particularly enthusiastic wave of his sword and face-planted in the grass. He blinked as the knight fought his way to his feet, using his sword to pull himself up, but in the act his sword sank deep into the ground and he was unable to get it free again.

"The ground has come alive and swallowed my blade!" he cried, staring petulantly it.

"That is…unfortunate," Toshiro said. Were all the portraits this simple? He had never stopped to speak to one – excluding the Fat Lady, but that was only because she blocked the Gryffindor common room – and this experience wasn't exactly making him want to go meet one. _How are they made?_ The sudden thought distracted him, and he spent the next minute or so puzzling it over. Were they first painted normally and then charmed? Or did the wizards use some kind of magical paint?

He was jarred out of his thoughts when the knight suddenly went clanking out the left side of his frame and the Trio followed him, jogging along the hall and up the stairs. The knight would appear in various frames ahead of them, shouting what he must have thought was encouragement. Normally Toshiro did not take kindly to being called a 'little albino', but seeing as his would-be opponent was two-dimensional and was made of paint, he decided to let it go.

Finally they reached the top of the tower and heard the low murmur of voices. The knight left, shouting that they could call any time upon 'Sir Cadogan'. Toshiro made a mental note to avoid him at all costs.

They reached the classroom by climbing up a silvery ladder through a trapdoor. Looking around, Toshiro immediately hated the room. It was hot and stuffy, courtesy of a large fire; round tables were stuffed around the edges of the room, some with armchairs or stools pushed in around them; the walls, which were a hideous shade of purple-red, appeared grimy as if they had never been washed; curtains made of a heavy cloth hung in front of the windows. Toshiro wound his way around the clutter of low armchairs and tables and drew back one of the curtains, pushing open the window behind it. Rust flaked down from the hinges. The summer air – which felt cool in the stuffy room – rushed in, swirling about the space and causing the fire to flicker.

"Welcome," said a soft voice. It seemed to come from the shadows surrounding a desk that was pushed back against the wall. "Take your seats, children."

After the brief chaos of finding a place to sit – Toshiro claimed a wooden chair near the window and refused to give it up – a woman appeared, draped in a gaudy shawl and with many things looping her neck and arms. She had large glasses that magnified her watery brown eyes.

"Welcome," she said again, and settled herself in an armchair in front of the fire. Her many beads and chains rattled as she moved, reminding Toshiro of a skeleton whose bones clacked together. "My name is Professor Trelawney. I do not venture down into the hustle and bustle of the main school as it clouds my Inner Eye." She frowned in Toshiro's direction. "Close the window, dear."

Toshiro didn't move.

As Trelawney continued speaking, she outlined the general uses and advantages of studying Divination, the course outline, and gave a brief lecture on why she believed the 'Gift', as she called it, was only given to a select few, special people.

 _"She is special alright,"_ Hyourinmaru snickered from Toshiro's inner world. Toshiro tried to conceal a smirk – unsuccessfully, it seemed, as Trelawney pointed one thin finger at him.

"You, boy – What is your name?"

The urge to remark that if she was a _true_ Seer, as she claimed she was, she would know that, rose up within him. He crushed it deep, deep down. "Toshiro Hitsugaya," he replied, and the Professor nodded, standing. With a feeling of dread, Toshiro watched as she picked her way across the room towards him.

"You… Do you have someone special in your life?"

Hyourinmaru was too busy choking to supply a witty remark. As it was, Toshiro was already planning his bolt for the trapdoor. "Depends on what you mean," he said warily. She stopped in front of him.

 _She's scrawny… I can easily knock her over if I need to get past her._

"Hmm…" Trelawney leaned towards him, studying him through thick-lensed glasses. "You – you shall… Interesting. Very interesting. Shut the window."

Toshiro narrowed his eyes at her, enormously relieved when she suddenly whirled about and turned her focus on Neville Longbottom.

The rest of the class Toshiro spent utterly bored. By the time it ended he was prepared to rip out his own hair just to have something to do. "That. Was. Awful," he announced as they made their way back down the long staircase. "Oh, congratulations on the Grim, Potter."

The depressed boy threw him a confused look to which Toshiro utterly ignored.

Moving quickly, Toshiro made his way down to his next class – Transfiguration – with time to spare. He found Professor McGonagall sitting behind her desk and inspecting a piece of parchment. "Good morning, Professor," he said, and the woman looked up.

"Good morning, Mister Hitsugaya. How was your first class? Or-" Here she glanced around the room to make sure there were no other students. "Should I say class _es_?"

"You were correct the first time," Toshiro said, dropping his bag on a desk. "I just came from Divination." He paused, seeing a brief flash of something – disgust? resignation? – flash across her face. He continued. "I have a question."

"Just one?"

Toshiro allowed a small smile to briefly curve the corners of his lips. There was something about McGonagall that he liked – perhaps it was her no-nonsense attitude that seemed to make students fall in line without resorting to Snape's pure intimidation. "Is Professor Trelawney a…true Seer?"

McGonagall set down her parchment, smoothed it, and took a breath before answering. "She claims she is."

"And what do you believe?"

"I believe that one should never speak ill of colleagues."

And there was his answer.

"Thank you," Toshiro said, inclining his head. "This was helpful."

McGonagall looked startled, but several students walked in and their conversation ended.

* * *

When Transfiguration ended Toshiro and Hermione lagged behind, slowly gathering together their things and waiting for the other students to leave for lunch. Focused on the food, Ron and Harry didn't even notice that they weren't there.

They found a secluded portion in a hall not far away from where the troll had gone into the bathroom in their first year and turned over their Time-Turners twice. A feeling as if he was shunpoing backwards distracted Toshiro as the world blurred around him, colors bleeding together as if the world was just a canvas and an artist had splashed watercolor onto it. Then the spinning stopped and he blinked to reorient himself, his internal clock going haywire. They were in the same place as before – an alcove across from a window overlooking part of the school grounds – but the sun was lower in the sky, and wisps of clouds that hadn't yet burned off were floating in the air.

"Whoa," Hermione said, staring down at her Time-Turner with a mixed expression of awe and surprise. "That was – wow."

Toshiro looked at his golden device and held it up to the sun, watching the miniscule grains of sand drift from the upper chamber of the hourglass down through a tiny neck and into the bottom chamber. He tucked it under his shirt. "Let's go to class," he said, starting off. Hermione followed.

As Toshiro navigated his way through the winding passageways of the castle, he felt a current of unease run through him. There was something distinctly _wrong_ with using the Time-Turners, as if they punched through the fabric of time and, after depositing their users, hastily sewed it back together again.

The thin band of gold around his neck seemed to pulse to a strange rhythm of its own.

* * *

After Arithmancy they had Muggle Studies, which was exactly what it sounded like. The teacher, a young, thin woman who wore a black t-shirt under her unbuttoned robes, produced several electronic Muggle devices. The wizarding children studied these with fascination, having never seen the objects before. Toshiro found himself amused that the children were completely enamored with an electric toothbrush.

Once their two extra hours ran back into the normal course of time, Hermione and Toshiro rejoined Ron and Harry at the Gryffindor table for lunch. Toshiro picked up an apple to eat and listened to the conversations around him. Nothing interesting happened until Neville, sitting several seats down, splashed a full goblet of juice onto his lap and he had to flee the Great Hall with an unfortunately-placed wet spot on his pants.

Finishing early, Toshiro decided to head down to Care of Magical Creatures early. The afternoon air was refreshing after the stuffy Hall, and he took deep breaths for a while until he felt himself getting lightheaded.

This year's class was to meet in front of Hagrid's hut next to the Forbidden Forest. Toshiro took a seat on a tree stump to wait. It wasn't long before the old bell rang, its tones echoing on the hard stone of the castle, and students started walking down the hill. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were three of the first to arrive. Malfoy glanced at Toshiro, sneered, and turned his back to him. Toshiro wondered why he presented such an easy target to the captain. Surely a purebred, who had grown up amongst wizards, would have better teachings or at least sharper instincts. It appeared not.

Soon the Trio arrived, walking in an awkward silence, and stood around his stump. He thought about asking what the matter was this time, but thought better of it. He didn't need the drama.

The squeal of hinges caught their attention, and the class turned as one to see Hagrid emerging from his hut. He winced. "Got ter oil those," he said, then clapped his large hands. "Right, everyone follow me! Got a great lesson t'day. Anyone missing? Come on now."

The big man turned and strode off with the class shuffling along behind him. Toshiro reluctantly stood from his stump – he was hoping today would simply be an introduction of rules and such so he didn't have to stand – and followed the group.

Several minutes later found them standing around a large paddock with nothing in it. "Right," Hagrid called, getting their attention. "Now, open yer books and we'll-"

"How?" Malfoy interrupted abruptly. In his hands was a Monster book bound with a short length of rope. The class nodded, holding up books wrapped with belts, twine, and tape. It seemed both Gryffindors and Slytherins were united in this front – they were all unable to get their books to cooperate.

Toshiro pulled his copy of the book from his bag, which the manager of the bookstore had bound with a gray string. The binding had come loose and the book strained at the string. It settled down quickly after he sent a warning ripple of ice through it.

"How?" Hagrid echoed, looking confused. "Yeh just…stroke it."

Malfoy scoffed. " _Stroke_ the book, he says."

"No, really – look." Hagrid took a book from the nearest student and ran a finger down its spine. It shuddered and fell still, not moving when he removed the belt from around it. "See, nothin' to it."

 _I must remember to tell this to the manager,_ Toshiro thought as he calmed his book and untied it.

Malfoy declared his annoyance with the fact that they were carrying books that could _kill them_ until Harry none too gently told him to shut up. Malfoy sneered at him but held his tongue. Hagrid attempted to get the class back on track, but now he was stumbling over his words and seemed to have lost most of his enthusiasm.

"I'll go an' get the Creatures," Hagrid mumbled, turned, and walked quickly into the woods. Chatter soon broke out amongst the students, with most of the children complaining about their books and eyeing the now-docile things with suspicion.

The thump of approaching footsteps alerted them to Hagrid's return and they stilled, turning expectantly to the forest that was dark even in the middle of the day. Toshiro frowned, noticing that Hagrid's footsteps, which were loud and heavy, were not the only ones present. There were others, lighter and with an odd rhythm and gate that didn't belong to any creatures that he knew of, but then Hagrid appeared from the forest leading a small procession and the puzzle was solved.

Behind Hagrid, in two rough lines, were a dozen misshapen creatures that looked as if parts of horses and eagles had been mashed together into an oddly harmonious beast so very much alike and opposite Victor Frankenstein's fiend. The herd – flock? – of creatures were tethered to the fence by chains that attached to thick leather collars, their coats and feathers gleaming in the noon-day sun.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid exclaimed, looking inordinately proud. "Right – they're proud creatures, so don't never insult one, 'cause you might never do anythin' else. So – who wants to go firs'?"

"First for…what?" someone asked uncertainly.

"To ride one, o' course!"

There was a stunned, awkward silence for several minutes, after which Hagrid shuffled his feet and looked around pleadingly. His gaze rested on Harry, but the boy didn't seem willing to draw undue attention to himself.

 _Fine, I'll bite,_ Toshiro thought to himself. He cleared his throat, and the sudden sound made several people jump. Hagrid's gaze landed gratefully on the captain. "I am not willing to ride on one, but I would like to get a closer look at them, if that is all right."

"Good, good." Hagrid's head bobbed, as he motioned the Shinigami forward. "Firs', you're gonna want'a bow to one – why don' yeh try Windcry here?" He untied one of the higgpogriffs' chains and held pulled the creature away from the others. Windcry followed, neck arching proudly and looking down on the children with glowing orange eyes. When Toshiro stepped closer the eyes snapped to the captain and locked with Toshiro's turquoise ones. Then Toshiro bowed, and the hippogriff shrieked.

The sound was the cry of a predator, meant to intimidate prey into immobilization. Toshiro recognized it for he – Hyourinmaru – had his own that he released upon being released into Shikai form. Windcry's shriek was a warning from one predator to another – _Get out of my territory!_ Then, when Toshiro didn't move other than having straightened from his bow and keeping his eyes locked with the creature's, it darted forward.

Never breaking eye contact, Windcry suddenly bolted towards the Shinigami, almost pulling a startled Hagrid off his feet. Skidding to a halt mere inches away the hippogriff reared up onto its equine legs and clawed at the air with its front claws, wings spreading to make itself appear larger. Its steel-gray beak opened again, issuing another warning from high in its throat, but Toshiro stood his ground and stared back, one of Hyourinmaru's growls rumbling from his chest. It was so low that none other than Windcry could hear it, but it had the desired reaction. With an audible _thump_ , Windcry lowered himself back to the ground and stood still and silent to study Toshiro through one intelligent eye.

Captain Hitsugaya stared back, letting his restrained reiatsu come boiling up to writhe in his eyes. They flashed silver. Windcry snorted once and dipped his head almost imperceptibly.

"Windcry!"

The sudden, appalled cry made both predators jump and turn to face the interruption. Hagrid looked horrified and pulled on Windcry chain, which caused the creature to take an irritated step back. Toshiro shifted his weight and Windcry snapped his head around, clacking his beak once.

Backing over the rail to stand once more amongst the students, Toshiro understood. The hippogriff had – admittedly reluctantly – acknowledged his superior power, but did not and never would accept him. Predators never did.


	8. Chapter 8

**All right, so once again I apologize for how long this took to get out. I just lost inspiration about a hundred words in, then I had real-life stuff to worry about, and yeah... Also, I was going to work on this yesterday but watched one - just _one_ \- video of Dan and Phil because a friend recommended it and I was bored, and I couldn't stop. I'm watching the Life of Dil, and - oh, it's hilarious! Anyway, here's chapter 8!**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Once Hagrid had pulled Windcry away from the children and attached his chain to a sturdy part of the fence he came back, wringing his hands. "Hope that don't… They aren't normally that aggressive…"

Feeling it was his duty to reassure the large man, Toshiro spoke up. "I must confess that the hippogriff probably reacted badly because of me. Animals tend to either love me or hate me."

"Not just animals," someone whispered from somewhere in the crowd. Toshiro turned but could not catch sight of anyone looking at him or struggling to keep a straight face. Frowning, he faced front once more.

"In any case…" Hagrid attempted to smooth his face into impassiveness, but was unsuccessful. "Buckbeak there's calmer… Anyone like to approach 'im?"

This time there was a long, uncomfortable silence in which no one spoke. After Windcry's display none of the children were willing to get anywhere within a ten-foot radius of another hippogriff, and Toshiro wasn't nearly foolish enough to attempt it again. Finally Hagrid decided to move on, looking a little put-out, and started to tell them about hippogriffs in general. He directed them to a page in the _Monster_ book that talked about their behavioral patterns and how they acted out in the wild.

Toshiro was only half listening during Hagrid's speech. He looked around, studying the mountains that ringed the school, which were covered with a thick green carpet of forest except for the very tips, at which the trees petered out to leave a gray lump of bare rock watching over it all. About a hundred yards away from where they stood was the Forbidden Forest, which was dark and old under the boughs of the trees. On his other side was the school itself, made of rough stone standing still in the warm air. Its many windows, like great black eyes, peered out from every surface and faced every direction.

The captain in him idly wondered how it would be best to siege this castle. Perhaps if he placed long-range Shinigami around the wall that sheltered the courtyard as a distraction while they tunneled underneath. There wasn't a moat, so they didn't have to worry about the tunnels collapsing on them…

A sharp cry snapped him back to attention, and he faced front only to see that the hippogriffs were agitated, rearing nervously and clawing the air with their front talons. One threw its head back, orange eyes wild and glowing even in the full light of the sun.

Another, a large gray with carefully preened feathers, charged forward and jumped the fence, landing with a _thump_ on the other side – the side with the children.

Hagrid started forward with a startled exclamation, pushing past Toshiro as he attempted to get to the hippogriff before it got to the terrified children. As he did he unintentionally shoved Toshiro, who went down to a knee. When he got up with an irritated scowl, his gaze landed in the bushes where two flashing eyes were suspended in the gloom. The eyes and Toshiro's eyes met and held for a long moment, and in that time Toshiro remembered the Grim in Harry's teacup, remembered Trelawney's warning, and the orb on her desk full of swirling smoke.

The eyes blinked and disappeared.

"Ah!"

Once more Toshiro was brought back to reality by a shout, but this time the origin was human. Draco Malfoy was stumbling away from the gray hippogriff, face pale and clutching his arm. Red liquid oozed up between his fingers. Blood.

"Buckbeak! No!"

 _So this is the calm hippogriff,_ Toshiro thought as Hagrid pulled a dead rabbit from the rope around his neck and threw it back over the fence. The hippogriff leapt after it. _I question Hagrid's assessment of the creature._

 _"Not necessarily,"_ a deep voice rumbled in the back of his mind. _"While you were daydreaming I was watching the situation. Something startled the creatures and Malfoy insulted that particular one – Buckbeak, was it? I wonder how it got its name…"_

 _"Not important,"_ Toshiro replied. _"What startled it? Was it the eyes?"_

 _"Perhaps."_ Hyourinmaru didn't sound convinced.

Hagrid rushed by again, this time with a moaning Malfoy in his arms. The class trotted after the man, his long, hurried strides carrying him much faster than they could keep up. As they walked the Slytherins clumped together, muttering angrily and throwing Hagrid's back furious looks.

"They should fire him straight away!" a girl shouted, tears blurring her eyes.

"It wasn't Hagrid's fault – Malfoy insulted the thing, you heard him!" Dean Thomas snapped back. Near the crying girl Crabbe and Goyle glared at the Gryffindor and cracked their knuckles.

Once they reached the stone steps of the entrance hall the Slytherin girl went running off in the direction of the hospital wing, saying something about checking on Draco.

The class, leaderless and lacking any directions, slowly dispersed. Toshiro started to follow the Trio as they headed up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower, but hesitated and turned back. Glancing around to make sure he was alone, the young captain jogged across the grass and stood before the Forbidden Forest. Its dry branches creaked in the slight wind, creating a nerve-shredding melody that seemed to echo long after the wind died.

Toshiro spread his senses wide, looking for anything out of the ordinary – the hippogriffs lived in the forest, and would not spook from a simple noise – but there was nothing. The shrieking branches continued their chorus, and nothing foul seemed to disturb the undergrowth. Hitsugaya took a step forward, paused, and looked back at the castle. Nothing and no one was near.

He plunged in.

* * *

So, the boy was a wizard. That certainly explained some things.

The man sighed, taking a sip of his tea. Despite his being in a pub – which was crowded and dark and full of disgusting, dirty people milling about and pressing up against one another – he did not drink alcohol. It burned his throat, ruined his coordination, and made thinking like wading through molasses. Still – and here he peered suspiciously down at the water in his cup – it wasn't an absolute surety that the bartender hadn't slipped a little something into the drink.

 _Never trust the keepers of alcohol,_ he reminded himself as he took a cautious sip. Then he grimaced. _Ugh. Terrible._

Mood thoroughly ruined, the man drained the rest of his cup, set it and several bills down on the counter, and left. He took a deep breath of the still-warm night air, and could smell the skin crisping on a chicken from the house across the street, could hear several children laughing in someone's backyard, and could see the tips of the trees swaying far above. Opening eyes that reflected the stars above, he pulled his cloak tighter about himself and set off at a quick pace down the street.

As soon as he left the small town – all of which's of-age occupants were surely at the pub – he started jogging, heading north. Hogsmead was in that direction, as was his prey. Both of them.

The man allowed his senses to open once he was out of the oppressive human settlement and enjoyed the wild freedom of the land. He made good time, and was little more than a ghost flickering across the land. And yet, even as he welcomed the sounds of the night animals, he knew that their cries were warnings of his passing, his location spreading in all directions to all listening beings.

 _This is always what happens,_ he thought as he drew his hood further over his head. _Animals fear me, wizards hate me, Muggles try to kill me. I don't belong anywhere. If only-_

Through great force of will the threw his mind from its path and tried blanking it, if only so he could immerse himself in the peaceful sounds of the trees and water and all living things.

Several hours passed in this manner, and yet he knew that he had a long way to go. Hogsmead was at least two hundred miles from London, and the tiny town that he had paused to rest at was only a day's journey by foot from the city. He didn't dare take a car – too much hassle, too little money – and no horse would suffer him as its rider. Mules bit and donkeys kicked. No, there was no other alternative than to walk.

To say he was annoyed when he discovered that his prey – both of them – had left the city several days before him was an understatement. Granted, one was on foot and was severely emaciated, but he still had four days' of a head start. And the other one – well, there was no way he could outrun a train. So there was nothing he could do but follow along behind and hope his first prey didn't reveal himself before he arrived.

The other one – a boy and, apparently, a wizard – was more of a curiosity that he needed to solve for his own peace of mind. What kind of human – for wizards were human, despite what they liked to believe – could walk amongst other humans unseen, unheard, and unfelt? He was an oddity, and the man, as a verifiable oddity himself, felt obligated to investigate.

 _"The Life-Stealer!"_ an owl ahead hooted urgently. _"The Form-Taker comes!"_

 _I am no more a stealer of lives than you are a female,_ the man frowned.

 _Form-Taker… That is debatable._

* * *

Tired, hungry, and irritated, Toshiro Hitsugaya wound his way through the thick clusters of children making their way into the Great Hall for the last meal of the day. As he passed he heard several conversations pertaining to Hagrid, hippogriffs, and a certain Slytherin third-year that was currently whining in the hospital wing.

Finally winning entrance into the Hall, Toshiro found a seat at the end of the table, not willing to make the exhausting trek to where the Trio were sitting near the middle of the long table. With a sigh he rubbed his arm, which was going to sport a fairly spectacular bruise tomorrow.

Idiotic trees. Don't know when to get out of the way.

Hagrid didn't appear at the head table that night. Dumbledore's large, throne-like chair was also absent. No doubt they were having a serious talk about what had happened earlier in the day. Which was good. A hippogriff _did_ manage to injure a student on Hagrid's watch, and action needed to be taken. Still, Toshiro didn't expect anything more than a formal warning and possibly a notice of probation.

Toshiro went upstairs to the Tower after dinner, intending to get his homework done, but found that was impossible in the common room, where friends were getting reacquainted after a summer apart, and where first years were playing with their wands. He decided to leave after one innocent-looking boy accidentally ignited a table with blue fire.

Like always, the roof was an excellent place to work. The tiles were still warm but there was a breeze that high up, and he found that he could concentrate much better out in the open. Settling himself down with his books and parchment he got to work, but was distracted some time later when a flicker of light caught his attention. Down on the grounds Hagrid's door suddenly burst open, throwing a long beam of golden light onto the grass. Then the large man staggered outside and, going over to an open barrel, stuck his head into it. When he pulled back up for air his hair was dripping.

Toshiro watched as Hagrid went back inside. "O-kay," he muttered, shaking his head and going back to work. "Humans are strange."

* * *

When their last class was over on Friday, Toshiro cornered the Trio before they could leave and told them in hushed tones to meet him by the lake, then gathered his books and left before they could question him.

 _"This is not going to go well,"_ Hyourinmaru said as Toshiro set up protective charms around the small clearing that he had found last year.

 _"Well, I've got to do it sometime,"_ Toshiro answered, muttering a spell to conceal their presence from any magical detection. He had just added a spell to warn him if anyone was approaching when it went off, signaling three people: two wizards and a witch.

Toshiro finished the last spell and went out to guide the three confused wizarding children into the clearing. They looked around in mixed expressions of remembrance. "Have you been here before?" Toshiro asked, going to stand in the middle of the clearing.

"Last year, when we were looking for you."

"When you were looking – oh. Well, let's move on from that. For this, you two are unnecessary…" He gestured at Ron and Hermione. "But I figured that you would like to know how I am going to train Potter to keep his powers under control."

"Oh, is that…what this is?" Hermione looked around. "Kinda small, isn't it?"

"For now this will work." Toshiro watched Ron, trying to decide how the boy felt about this.

 _"Nothing he can do about it,"_ Hyourinmaru said firmly. _"The boy has to be trained, and the Head Captain gave us specific orders to keep him under control."_

"Mm," Toshiro nodded, and ignored the childrens' confused look. "Potter, I have decided that you need to learn how to meditate."

"Meditate?" Harry threw a look at his friends. "But… Why?"

Toshiro tried to remember what the instructors had said back at the Academy. "If you meditate you will eventually be able to slip into your inner world and communicate with your zanpakuto spirit, and then once you have achieved a link with him–"

 _"Or her."_

"- or her, you will be able to explore your powers and control them."

There was an awkwardly long silence after he finished speaking. Toshiro watched Harry and saw an array of emotions cross his face. Then he glanced over at his friends again. They spoke in unison.

"Inner world?"

"Zanpa- what?"

"There's someone inside me?!"

Toshiro closed his eyes and sighed.

 _"Basics first?"_

"Basics first."

* * *

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the child who defeated the Dark Lord and came away mostly unscathed, was astonishingly terrible at meditating.

Of course, that might have something to do with the fact that he was apparently still full of questions about zanpakutos, swords, and _T_ _here's a thing…inside my soul? Does it want out?_ When he actually did settle down and attempt to clear his mind Toshiro could tell that he was still thinking. And worrying.

Toshiro sat on the other side of the clearing with Ron and Hermione, who he'd forbidden to get within a five-foot radius of Potter.

"So, do we have thing in our souls?"

Toshiro sighed for what seemed like the millionth time. "Like I said," he whispered, turning to face the children, "I don't know how much spiritual pressure you two will have when you turn up in Soul Society. I'm guessing the only reason Potter displayed powers now is because I used healing Kido on him when he got injured by the Bludger last year."

"But…" Weasley seemed to be having a difficult time wrapping his mind around this. "Why should that have affected him?"

"Keep your voice down!" Toshiro shot a glance at Potter, who still had his eyes closed on the other side of the clearing. But Toshiro suspected he was just sleeping. He turned back to the red-head. "I figure that because you people are wizards and already have a certain amount of reiatsu that you use to control your magic my spiritual pressure and Potter's…" He trailed off, seeing Ron and Hermione's confused look.

"For goodness – look, let's just call it magic, all right?" He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Potter's…magic probably reacted to mine, seeing it as a threat and tried to increase its power so that it could protect Potter from mine." He put his hands behind him and leaned back. "But that's just my theory. I have no idea if it's correct."

Hermione was frowning and looked at him speculatively. "So – in theory – the same thing could happen to us?"

"Yes," Toshiro said slowly, "I suppose so." He leveled a stern gaze at the two. "But I'm going to be much more careful in the future so that this doesn't happen again."

"So if we're bleeding out you wouldn't help us?"

"Don't try to find hidden meaning in my words," Toshiro sighed, lowering himself onto his back. "It's exhausting and there's no point to it."

They fell into another silence in which the only sounds were the water of the lake lapping against the shore and birds chirping in nearby trees. The protection spells that he had put up hummed inside Toshiro, their tones low and soothing. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the warm sun on his skin. He may be an ice-based Shinigami, but he did have an appreciation for the heat.

"Gah!"

One instant he was relaxing in the sun and the next he was on his feet, wand out and a spell ready. But – only the three of them were in the clearing.

Toshiro straightened, letting his wand hand drop to his side, and looked down at Potter, who was looking incredibly frustrated. "Is something wrong?" he asked, not bothering to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"Yes, something's wrong – I can't do it!"

"You've only been trying for half an hour. Most Shinigami take years to communicate with their zanpakuto spirit."

"Years?" Harry leapt to his feet and crossed the clearing in several strides. He stood uncomfortably close to Toshiro, who refused to back away. " _Years_!"

"Depending on their spirit energy level," Toshiro responded calmly, then couldn't help adding, "I made contact without formal training."

 _"You mean_ I _made contact,"_ Hyourinmaru grumbled.

 _"Yeah, and that went great."_

 _"What was I supposed to do? I couldn't wait any longer and you weren't doing anything."_

Toshiro was broken from his mental conversation when Harry grabbed the front of his robes, giving him a little shake. "Are you even listen – Ah!"

All the air went out of Potter's lungs in one forced exhalation as he was knocked off his feet and landed roughly on the ground. He sucked in a breath and blinked up at Toshiro, who was standing next to him, arms crossed.

"I have told you not to touch me," Toshiro said in a low tone, glaring down at the boy. "Anger is no excuse to forget the rules."

"Hey!" A hand grabbed his shoulder, hauling him back a few steps. "Don't attack him!"

Toshiro twisted out of the hand and grabbed the arm attached to it, but before he could do anything else something hit the back of his knees and he fell forward. As soon as his hands touched the earth he threw himself sideways, then kicked out with a foot. Ron went down, but then there were hands pulling him up so he went limp, throwing the person behind him off-balance.

"Hey, what're you – hey, _that's mine_!"

The next several minutes were filled with chaotic struggling. At one point Toshiro was able to break away from the fight and saw Harry and Ron wrestling. Ron had the height advantage but Harry was wiry and was able to squirm out of his grip.

Toshiro only had time to stare in confusion before he was pulled to the ground with a weight on his back. He twisted until he was facing up and found Hermione struggling to pin him down. "You tackled me!" he said indignantly.

Hermione grinned so Toshiro huffed in annoyance and amusement and grabbed her arms, vaulting her as gently as he could off of him. He stood, intending on ending this inane battle royal, but then he was knocked off his feet again and tripped over Ron and Harry still scuffling on the ground. Ron, who was currently on top of Harry, collapsed under his weight and for a moment all three simply lay groaning on the ground.

"Get – off…" Harry wheezed, pushing futilely at the two boys sprawled on top of him. Toshiro rolled off the pile but stayed down, his shoulders shaking with contained laughter. Then, unable to restrain himself anymore, he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and just laughed. A few seconds later Harry, Ron, and Hermione joined in.

"What…was that?" Toshiro sucked in several deep breaths and gathered himself enough to sit up. The three children were laughing helplessly on the ground, and even Toshiro found himself still grinning. Deep inside his inner world he could hear muffled laughter, but found that he wasn't even mad at the dragon for finding amusement in his expense. "Weasley – why are you fighting Potter?"

"He–" The red-head broke off in a fit of laughter and took several minutes to catch his breath. "He took my…"

"Got it!" Harry triumphantly held up a shoe, and Ron snatched it out of his hand. Toshiro shook his head and turned to Hermione, who was failing miserably at trying to look composed.

"What?"

Toshiro snorted and flopped back down onto the grass.

* * *

 **I had a lot of fun writing that last scene. It wasn't what I originally had planned for this chapter, but then the idea popped into my head and...this is what happened.**

 **I was going to add the boggart scene in this chapter ('cause I know that's what all of you want to see), but I just felt like it was good to end it on a happy note, considering what's coming next chapter. The boggart will come next chapter. *evil laugh***

 **One more thing, I promise! Remember fairly early in the chapter when I describe that mysterious character? So far I'm using the names Life-Stealer and Form-Taker, but I'm not really happy with them. Problem is I can't come up with anything better (for whatever reason my mind just draws up a blank). So, if you have a better name please PM me or leave it in a review and I might use it instead of what I've got so far. You'll get recognition for it.**

 **All right, I'm done now.**


	9. Chapter 9

**All right, so, the boggart! It's here! Also, remember that what is in bold is in Japanese.**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

They soon had to abort the training session since it was starting to get dark. Toshiro had planned to try again the next day, but Harry had homework (that he wasn't doing) and there really wasn't a point to going with only Hermione and Ron, so they did not train until after Malfoy rejoined classes.

Exactly a week after the incident with the hippogriff, Malfoy came in twenty minutes late during the Gryffindor/Slytherin double Potions lesson on Thursday. For whatever reason he decided to sit next to Toshiro and demand he prepare all his ingredients, since his arm _hurt too much_. The Shinigami prepared the ingredients then went back to his own cauldron, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, but seemed a little too dark so he added more roots.

"You don't act like the other Gryffindors."

"Hm?" Toshiro barely looked up from his cauldron. _One turn clock...wise, two counter…_

"I mean," Malfoy went on, either not noticing or not caring that Toshiro didn't care what he had to say, "you're uppity and arrogant just like the rest of them, but you're not _like_ them – do you know what I mean?"

"No." Toshiro sprinkled in a little – _Oh dear, what was that?_

As Toshiro tried to determine what he had just added to his potion, Malfoy continued to talk. "All the rest of 'em are lazy fools, but at least you have drive. I think you could have made a good Slytherin."

"You don't know anything about me," Toshiro muttered, but most of his attention was on his potion. It had started to boil and had turned a sickening shade of green.

"Sure, but – I bet you're powerful. And something like this–" Malfoy lifted his injured arm as much as he could. "I bet this wouldn't stop you."

"What do you want from me?" Toshiro eyed his potion. It was frothing around the edges, and he was hesitant to lean over it. He glanced up and saw Snape watching the disaster-in-progress with a slight smirk. Toshiro turned back to his cauldron, not willing to beg for help just yet.

Malfoy stirred his own potion half-heartedly. "Is it wrong to want to get to know someone?"

"No, but you have a well-known reputation for hating Gryffin – uh oh."

"What?" Malfoy stood to look into his cauldron. "Oh, that's not good."

* * *

Still grumbling, Toshiro toweled his hair dry. _"Stop laughing,_ " he growled at Hyourinmaru, whose rumbling laughs were echoing through their inner world.

 _"But did you_ see _Snape's face?"_

 _"Yes, and now I'm going to have to see it again Monday night."_

 _"So worth it!"_

Toshiro sighed but trudged down the stairs and grabbed his bag from Hermione, who was waiting on the couch. "Ready to go to class?" she asked cheerfully.

"Not you too." Toshiro stalked out the common room, ignoring the Fat Lady's giggling.

"Oh, it wasn't so bad."

This time Toshiro gave into temptation and rolled his eyes. "So says anyone who doesn't have detention with Professor Snape."

"Well… How 'bout this? It hasn't even happened yet!"

That was true. After the…incident in the Potions classroom he and Hermione had used their Time-Turners so that Toshiro could take a shower before heading to Muggle Studies. The halls were empty as everyone was still in class.

"Besides, now you smell like strawberries!" Hermione giggled and leaned against the wall with the door to their class. Toshiro frowned.

"I do not smell like Kurosaki!"

"Who?"

They stared at each other for a couple seconds before the bell rang and kids poured into the hallway. "Not important," Toshiro muttered.

"You're early," their teacher said, smiling at them and pressing a button on a radio sitting on her desk. Jazz started playing from the speakers.

"We had plenty of time to get here," Hermione replied, and they sat down in the back corner. Toshiro wasn't willing to sit up any further. "Cheer up – we've got DADA after lunch. I've heard Professor Lupin's really good."

"Yeah." He'd heard the rumors. "But still, I've got detention with Snape on Monday." He groaned and put his head down on the desk. "Oh, gods, I've got detention with _Snape_ on Monday!"

Hermione grinned weakly and patted his shoulder. "You smell like strawberries."

* * *

By lunchtime everyone had heard what had happened in the Potions classroom. Toshiro sat near the back of the Hall but he could still hear the whispers, and some Gryffindors were coming up to him and patting his back. They also wanted to know why he smelled like strawberries.

He was miserable.

Deciding to forego lunch, he left and wandered aimlessly around the castle and found himself on a balcony overlooking part of the school lawns and the Forbidden Forest. With a sigh he settled himself on the railing with his back against the wall and started to read a book about the progression of transportation that Muggles had come up with. Whoever had wrote this book appeared to be extremely biased against Muggles, as much of the text described the faults with carriages and automobiles, carts and aeroplanes.

"I don't think you should be up there."

Toshiro jumped and turned to find a tired-looking man wearing thin brown robes. "Oh, hello, Professor."

"Hello… I'm sorry, but I've met so many new people that I can't remember your name. You are…?"

"Hitsugaya Toshiro."

"The third year," Lupin said, and shook his hand. "So, what brings you up here, Hitsugaya the third year?"

Toshiro sighed and brought one leg up to his chest, letting the other dangle over the edge. Lupin eyed him, looking decidedly uncomfortable with that position. "It's nothing," he said, looking out over the school grounds again. "It'll pass."

Lupin hummed and moved closer, but then paused and wrinkled his nose. "You smell like strawberries."

Toshiro decided not to answer.

Taking shallow breaths Lupin moved to the railing next to Toshiro and looked out over the school. "It is a beautiful day," he said, and lifted his head. The slight breeze stirred his hair, sending it into his eyes. He shoved it out of the way and took a deep breath.

Toshiro nodded and shifted position, swinging his leg up so he could stretch out on the rail. Lupin's hand twitched as if he had to forcibly stop himself from grabbing Toshiro and pulling him away from the ledge.

"You are not afraid of heights," Lupin observed. Toshiro clicked his tongue, amused. He could stand on air, soar through the sky, and control the weather. As if he would be afraid of sitting on a wall. Please.

"I am not," he agreed.

Lupin stayed there for several more minutes before turning and heading back into the castle. Toshiro stayed on his perch and looked out over the school grounds, breathing deeply and evenly. His hand reached up and touched the band of ice around his arm.

* * *

The mood in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was much more excited than was normal. The classroom, looking almost the same as last year except for the walls bare of Lockhart paintings, quickly filled up with students. They took their seats and pulled out supplies: quills were lain next to parchment, ink bottles were uncapped, and books were placed on tables. When the bell rang Professor Lupin had not yet arrived, but the students were all in their seats, whispering excitedly. Toshiro was just beginning to wonder if the professor had remembered there was a lesson today when the door opened and Lupin stood in the doorway.

"Good afternoon," he said in his low, tired voice. "Would you please put all your books and supplies back in your bags. Today's lesson will be practical. Have your wands ready."

The students looked curious but followed the instructions and soon the desks were clear and wands were held loosely in their hands. One student, looking much more scared than excited, raised his hand. Lupin gestured for him to speak.

"W-will this… Are there creatures, sir?" the boy asked, fiddling nervously with his quill. Lupin nodded, and the boy blanched. Lupin gave him an encouraging smile.

"We are only working with one creature today. There is no need to worry if you follow my instructions. Right, everyone ready? Follow me."

The entire class trouped out of the classroom and followed the professor around the corner where they found Peeves sticking gum into the keyhole of a door. "Mr. Filch will not be happy to find he cannot get to his brooms," Lupin said, and Peeves looked up to stick his tongue out at the man. Lupin sighed and took out his wand the same instant that Peeves's eyes slid away from the professor and to the students, resting briefly on Toshiro. Letting out a long string of colorful curses that made Lupin wince, he shot up and through the ceiling. "Do not repeat that at home," Lupin said and walked forward again.

Thinking that the professor had scared the poltergeist away simply by taking out his wand, the class followed, whispering with a new-found respect for their teacher.

"He's already better than Lockhart," someone whispered.

 _"Peeves must still be under orders to stay away from you,"_ Hyourinmaru said, amused. Toshiro nodded absently, remembering when the Bloody Baron had commanded the ghost to keep well away from Toshiro.

 _"I wonder why Peeves is so afraid of the Bloody Baron,"_ Toshiro said to his zanpakuto. _"It's not as if he can be killed again, and I doubt they can be hurt."_

Hyourinmaru hummed thoughtfully.

Meanwhile, Lupin had unlocked the door of a staffroom and was ushering students in. Inside was old wardrobe standing at the back of the long room. As the students continued to trickle in the wardrobe suddenly wobbled, smacking against the wall with a loud _bang_. The children that had wandered over to that side of the room jumped and quickly backed away.

"What's in it?" the same boy from earlier asked. He was standing with all his muscles tensed, and with eyes wide.

"A boggart," Professor Lupin said calmly.

The children that had wizarding parents looked at the violently-vibrating wardrobe with alarm. Lupin smiled, closed the door, and walked through the crowd of children to stand facing them. "It's nothing to fear," he said, then the corners of his mouth twitched. "It controls fear, and as such we have nothing to fear but fear itself. Anyone know who said that?"

This time the wizarding children looked lost. Hermione gasped and her arm shot into the air. Standing in front and a little to the right of Toshiro was Harry. He tentatively put up his hand. Lupin called on him.

"Roosevelt, sir?"

"Correct! Franklin D. Roosevelt, the thirty-second president of the United States of America." Lupin paused and clasped his hands. "Now, I would love to discuss fear and whether or not it is a practical thing to use in today's society, but I don't think you want to hear that." He paused. "Do you?"

"NO!"

"Very well, then," Lupin chuckled. "Now, boggarts. Can anyone tell me what a boggart is? Yes, Hermione."

 _"I remember that speech,"_ Hitsugaya murmured to Hyourinmaru. _"That was our first out-of-country mission, wasn't it?"_

 _"It was."_ Hyourinmaru chuckled. _"I remember your English wasn't so good back then. What did you think he said? The only thing we have to fear is dear?"_

 _"The microphone was spotty! Besides, I was a little distracted. That girl's ice-cream fell on me."_

 _"I still maintain she threw it on you."_

A voice saying "Come on!" and a grip on his hand tugging him forward brought his attention back to the physical world, and Toshiro found that the students had formed a line. Hermione had pulled him somewhere near the back, although when he tried to drop his hand back down he found that she hadn't let it go. Toshiro blinked and gently eased his hand out of her grip. She didn't appear to notice, as she was standing on her toes to look ahead at the front of the line where Professor Lupin was questioning Neville Longbottom.

"Professor Snape?" Lupin laughed. "Yes, he is quite fierce. But, what aren't you afraid of?" At Neville's blank look he amended, "What do you find amusing?"

Neville's reply was mumbled too softly for Toshiro to hear, but Lupin appeared satisfied with the response as he motioned for the boy to step back after giving him a few whispered instructions. Nevile was grinning as he took his place at the head of the line. Lupin raised his voice. "Now, when the boggart comes out it will appear in the form that Mr. Longbottom has selected. When it is your turn to face the creature you must flick your wand and say _Riddikulus_. This will force the boggart to change into whatever you find funny, so you must concentrate on whatever that is – it can be an item or something else entirely. Picture it in your mind, so that when the boggart faces you and it turns into what you fear the most you will be ready for it. Ready, Neville?"

"Ready, sir." Neville raised his wand.

"One, two, _three_!"

The wardrobe door burst open and banged against the stone wall behind it. Out of its dark depths Professor Snape stepped, eyes gleaming darkly and a fell scowl on his face. At the head of the line of students Neville gulped but raised his wand.

" _R-riddikulus_!"

In one instant Snape was wearing the robes of a bloodsucking bat, and the next he was in grandmother-clothes complete with a turkey-vulture hat atop his head. The class roared with laughter, and even Lupin had to take a moment to compose himself. Toshiro stared at the transformed boggart, searing the sight into his mind.

 _"Just think of this in your detention with Snape!"_ Hyourinmaru roared. He was standing at the edge of a cliff, his legs tucked underneath him and claws digging into the ice. His tail slammed down, sending up a large puff of snow. _"Oh, how glorious!"_

As the Snape-in-a-dress stumbled forward on dainty high heels, Parvati stepped forward, grinning helplessly. The boggart's eyes fixed on her and Snape melted away only to be replaced by a mummy, its bandages covered in large splotches of dried blood. " _Riddikulus_ ," the girl gasped, and then the mummy's head bounced on the ground as the undead creature stumbled on its own bandages.

And so it went on, each student stepping forward and transforming their worst fear into something they could laugh at. Sometimes the amusing things were hilarious and the class roared in laughter, and sometimes the boggart turned into things that nobody found amusing but the person facing it could smile at. Toshiro watched the number of students in front of him dwindle, and started searching his mind for something amusing.

 _"Step away!"_

Hyourinmaru's voice, suddenly urgent, boomed in his mind.

 _"What?"_

 _"Your worst fear – do you really want them to see it?"_

Toshiro's breath caught in his throat. "No…" he breathed, moving jerkily out of line just as Harry Potter stepped forward to face the boggart. The creature faced the boy as Lupin, who had been leaning against the wall, started forward with a look of alarm. The boggart, which had just turned into a dementor, twisted into a bright full moon. Toshiro paused, staring at it, before Lupin flicked his wand and the moon deflated into a yellow balloon.

The balloon zipped in manic patterns through the air as it shot around the room. Then it stopped – just in front of Toshiro.

Hyourinmaru let out a low growl in the brief moment of time as the boggart shifted forms. Toshiro's heart beat wildly in his chest, and he shot a panicked look at the professor. But there was nothing the man could do, as in that instant the boggart picked its new form.

For a brief second there was silence. Then a scream pierced the air, and as if that single sound had opened the floodgate of noise, gasps and shrieks and cries of terror filled the small room. Neville Longbottom dropped his wand. Parvati Pavil buried her head into her sister's shoulder. Dean Thomas backed into the far wall.

Toshiro heard and saw none of this. He stared at what was before him, unable to get his muscles to move.

Around them was the blackened and shriveled remains of Division 10, razed by fire. His subordinates, the idiotic, often-drunk, loyal, _wonderful_ men and women, lay scattered on the ground, skin burned and blistered. Their bodies were twisted in positions of agony as they died trying to escape the torture of the flames.

And there, lying in a puddle of blood, limp face a mask of pain and fear, was Momo, her clothes sticky from the liquid pouring out of her chest. "Hinamori." Toshiro took one weak step forward and found that he couldn't move any farther. "Hinamori…"

He recognized this. That wound – that awful, awful wound – it was his. He did this. He hurt her. He hurt Momo. He stabbed… But he thought – No. His subordinates. _His_ subordinates. He – the fire –

" _Riddikulus_."

Professor Lupin stepped forward, his hand and voice shaky.

Momo continued to lie on the floor in a pool of spreading blood.

" _Riddikulus_!"

 **"Shiro…"** Momo's head turned, her eyes fixing on his. **"Why?"**

 **"I didn't–"** Toshiro's voice cut off. **"Hinamori, I…"**

 **"You did this."**

Toshiro raised his eyes to face this new torment and saw Rangiku kneeling next to Momo. Her eyes met his, and were angry. Accusing.

 **"You are a child,"** Matsumoto continued, her voice hard. **"You are not worthy of being Captain."**

"Hitsugaya."

His eyes were locked on his Vice-Captain's. He was drowning in the gray pools of hatred. **"You are not good enough. You should never have been a Captain. A _real_ Captain would have prevented this, stopped _himself_."**

"Hitsugaya!"

Slowly, he looked down. Momo's bloody lips moved. _Why?_

" _Toshiro_!" His view was blocked and hands were placed on his shoulders. "It is not real. Do you hear me? _It is not real!_ "

Toshiro blinked. He focused on Lupin's eyes and didn't look away. Lupin continued to speak urgently.

"You are safe. You are at Hogwarts. This is not real. You are in class at Hogwarts. Listen to me. They _are not real_."

Hogwarts. He was at Hogwarts. Anger, kindled from deep within, flared inside of him.

 _Blood should not stain the stones of this school._

He raised his wand.

" _Riddikulus_." Momo and Rangiku and the blood and Division 10 and the accusing eyes disappeared. In their place a small top, forever spinning, appeared. "Not real."


	10. Chapter 10

**Finally I can post this! I was unfortunately away from my computer for a couple weeks, and so could not post this when I actually had it written. But, it's here and I hope you enjoy it.**

 **I was very pleased at the response to the boggart chapter. I thought a lot about that particular scene and considered several different things that the boggart could turn into, but I thought that the one I chose would perhaps be most accurate for Hitsugaya, a young Shinigami Captain that just fought in a war. Everything that he saw, and did, would have been very traumatic, and those memories and emotions would not just 'go away'.**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

The class was whispering, filling the room with quiet murmurs. Toshiro Hitsugaya looked around at them.

He walked out.

He had peace for about two minutes before the Trio came rushing out of the door calling his name. Toshiro walked on, doing his best to ignore them until Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him into the nearest empty classroom. "What the _bloody hell_ was that?!" Ron was even paler than usual, the splash of freckles across his face standing out. Toshiro looked calmly at him.

"That was my greatest fear."

"Y-yeah, but… _What_?!"

Toshiro shook his head and brushed past the three children. He paused with his hand on the door handle and said softly, "You know what I am. What do you think a Death God does, truly?"

Hermione spoke up, her voice quivering. "I thought… I mean, you said you send on souls, not – _that_."

"We are warriors. We must be, to protect humans and Shinigami from Hollows." Toshiro's hand tightened on the handle, and when he next spoke it was no more than an exhalation of breath. "And ourselves."

"Our–" Hermione gasped. "Civil war?"

"Not quite. Just…" Toshiro shook his head and opened the door. "I'm not going to talk about it."

This time they let him go, this time they didn't follow him and demand answers. Not that Hitsugaya was going to give them any. They didn't need to know the horrors that he'd seen, the things that people could do to each other and the lengths they would go to to achieve their aims. No, they did not need to know. They were only children.

 _Let them keep their naivety,_ he thought. He turned a corner and passed out of the castle and into the dimming afternoon light. _They will not have it for much longer, especially if Potter develops his powers further. I must teach him control._

 _For all of our sakes._

* * *

In no time at all, the story of the boggart and Toshiro's greatest fear had spread to every teacher, student, and ghost on campus. The teachers, after he had had a long talk with Professor McGonagall, tried to act normally, but even they gave him worried looks out of the corner of their eyes once in a while. The students acted as expected – some avoided him, some tried to torment him, some tried to get the full story out of him, but most just whispered and stared. He was used to this, however, as the youngest Captain in the history of the Soul Society, and simply ignored them.

Toshiro wanted to work with Harry at least three times a week, but the boy always seemed to have something to do: one day it was homework, another day he had agreed to play wizarding chess with Ron, and one particularly irritating day he simply avoided Toshiro altogether. He knew that Potter's problem with him had to do with the boggart and Toshiro's fear, but just knowing the problem wasn't enough to fix it. Finally, Toshiro had had enough. He cornered the boy after a Care of Magical Creatures class after telling Ron and Hermione to leave them alone.

"Do you not understand the importance of controlling your powers?"

Potter stared at him, eyes wide, clutching his bag protectively to his chest. Toshiro turned his most fearsome glare on the boy.

"If you don't learn to control them you _will_ end up hurting someone one day. They will explode out of nowhere, or leak and warp your surroundings, or they will destroy you from the inside."

Harry gulped and touched the restrainer around his wrist.

"That won't help you." Toshiro stalked up to him and grabbed his arm, forcibly holding it up so that Harry could easily see the restraining band. " _This_ is temporary, only meant to stay on for as long as it takes for you to learn to control your powers on your own." He pulled out his wand and held it up. Harry's eyes fixed nervously on it and he backed up a step. "You don't honestly–" He broke off, looking to his right at the Forbidden Forest a few yards away. Hagrid had been showing them how to find flobberworms that day, who apparently liked the damp soil of the Forest.

A reiatsu was coming from in there, strange and tumbling over and over itself, as if there were two beings constantly fighting for dominance. Toshiro frowned, unsure what that meant. Then Potter shifted his weight nervously and he pushed the boy back, away from the Forest and behind himself.

"We are not alone," he said softly, but before he could elaborate a dark shape exploded from the bushes and slammed into Toshiro, knocking him roughly onto his back. He heard Harry shriek, but was occupied with the large creature standing over him.

It was a dog, a large one, with matted black fur clinging to its sides and sliding over protruding ribs. The dog's long ears were pressed back against its head, and it was leaning down over Toshiro with one heavy paw on his chest, claws tearing through his shirt and digging painfully into his skin.

Then it growled, showing inch-long, yellow teeth. Toshiro loosed a rumbling growl of his own that vibrated in his chest. Hyourinmaru was angry, and his power curled in his eyes. Toshiro was aware that Harry was running, his footsteps disappearing into the distance, but he was focused on his own fight. The dog snapped its jaws and he grabbed its head, wresting it away from his neck.

Suddenly, the dog yelped and scrambled off him, darting back into the Forbidden Forest. Toshiro rolled to his knees and twisted around just in time to see the shadow of a man also disappearing into the Forest. He sank back, breathing deeply, and pressed a hand to his chest. When he pulled it away it was spotted with flecks of blood.

"Hitsugaya!"

"To'iro!"

Hagrid and Potter were running across the grass towards him, the ground shaking in time to the big man's steps. Toshiro groaned and stood, brushing off his knees. Hagrid was in front of Harry and pounded to a stop before the Captain. "Wha' 'appened? You all righ'?"

Toshiro nodded and bent to retrieve his wand from where it had rolled when he had released it to grab the dog. "I'm fine. It's gone. Some – It's gone."

"'arry said – a dog?"

"There was, but…" He looked back at the looming trees of the Forbidden Forest. "It's gone now."

Harry took an anxious step forward. "You're bleeding!"

"Did it bite ya?" Hagrid suddenly looked grim. Toshiro shook his head and relief crossed the giant man's face.

"No, it had its paw on me – its claws scratched me."

The worry was back. "You need ta go ta Madam Pomfrey, get those cleaned up. Come on, I'll take ya."

"You don't need to. It's already stopped bleeding."

That was true. The four scratches were shallow and had stopped bleeding because of the pressure he had been keeping on them. Now they just stung.

"No, yall go to Madam Pomfrey." Hagrid's voice was firm, and he reached out to put his hand on Toshiro's back to steer him in the direction of the castle. "Now, b'fore they get infected."

Toshiro sighed but allowed this. He knew to clean them, and would have, but now he had no choice but to explain everything to Madam Pomfrey – and then she would call McGonagall, and _she_ would report it to Dumbledore –

He shot a glare back at Harry, but immediately aborted it. The boy's expression reminded him of Momo's, the first time he had been injured badly enough to have to go to Division 4, when she had seen him wrapped in bandages. He swallowed and looked ahead.

* * *

"A dog? But why would it attack you?"

Toshiro sighed, then winced as Madam Pomfrey jabbed another needle into his arm. "I don't know, Professor. I didn't do anything to it."

Professor McGonagall looked like she wanted to scold him for something but wasn't sure what for. She settled on setting her lips in a thin line. "And why did it run off?"

Hitsugaya wanted to hit his head against a wall. Several times. "As I told you before, I stabbed my wand into its side," he replied icily. "It felt the magic and ran."

"Don't take that tone with me, young man!" McGonagall looked over at Madam Pomfrey, who was putting away her supplies. "Perhaps you should give him something to help him sleep, just as a precaution."

"A _sedative_!" Toshiro leapt to his feet and started backing rapidly away. "Oh, no. No, no, no. You are _not_ giving me a sedative! They are just scratches! I am _fine_!"

Even Madam Pomfrey seemed surprised by McGonagall's request. "Minerva, despite his tone, he is right. He doesn't even need to miss any school."

"I am not talking about the scratches." She shot a significant look at the medi-witch. Toshiro frowned, then his eyes widened.

"This is about the boggart, isn't it?" Both witches turned to face him, pitying expressions on their faces. He scoffed and shook his head in disgust. "This is about the boggart. Look, there's _nothing_ wrong with me! That was just–" He cut himself off. Whatever he said about the matter, the fact was that a child his 'age' shouldn't have fears like that. They should fear normal things, like spiders and the dark. Not blood and death and ruin.

In truth, there was nothing he could say to excuse what the boggart had turned into. He closed his mouth and looked away.

"Mr. Hitsugaya."

McGonagall's voice was soft, softer than he had ever heard it before, and in surprise he looked up to see a gentle expression on her face. It was quite disarming.

The old witch searched for the right words. "It's just… We want to help you. We want to make sure that you – that you are all right."

Toshiro's eyes narrowed. "I am perfectly all right." His tone was full of warning, but that only seemed to make McGonagall more concerned.

"Physically, yes. But…" She trailed off and Toshiro sighed again, seeing now what they wanted.

"My mind is also fine."

The lines deepened in her face. "Perhaps you think that, but–"

Toshiro scoffed, cutting her off. " _Perhaps_? All due respect, Professor, but I know my mind much better than anyone else, and if I say it is fine then it is _fine_."

After a steadying breath, McGonagall continued in that sickeningly worried voice. "You are defensive. As a teacher, I have seen many cases of students who have been…traumatized in some way before they come to school."

Traumatized? Oh, Hitsugaya knew what trauma she was talking about, but if anyone tried to traumatize _him_ he would tear them apart. In fact, he _had_ torn several people apart. Literally and metaphorically.

The temperature in the room dropped as McGonagall continued to speak. "And it's okay. You can talk to us – we're here to help students, in whatever way they need it. I'm sure, whatever it is you are dealing with at home, we can contact someone in your government and they will do whatever is necessary to help."

 _Whatever it is._ Oh, how he would like to tell her – show her – exactly what he had to deal with at home. See if she would be nearly so willing to help after that. But if she was serious and actually sent a letter home – that first owl had somehow gotten through by magic, so he did not doubt that they could get another one – If they sent a letter home and ruined everything that he had worked so hard for– _I signed up to be a Shinigami because I had to. But I will be_ damned _if they take that away from me. Not after Aizen and the War and the pain. Not after we_ won _. We_ survived _._

A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his angry thoughts. "Kindly bring the temperature back to normal, young one. You are going to turn us all into icicles."

With a start Toshiro realized that the temperature had dropped so much that Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall were shivering. With an apologetic murmur he cut off the stream of furious reiatsu leaking from him and the air once again warmed up.

"Thank you." Headmaster Dumbledore smiled gently and removed his hand from Hitsugaya's shoulder. "Now, what got you so worked up that you preformed accidental magic?"

 _He's right. I'm a Captain – I should be able to contain my reiatsu._ Silently berating himself, Toshiro spoke. "Professor McGonagall believes that something is wrong with my life at home. I am firmly against that."

"Are you? Then we should take your word for it."

"Albus!"

McGonagall spoke sharply but Dumbledore shot her a pointed look. She closed her mouth. Dumbledore turned back to Toshiro. "Now, I hear that you were attacked by a dog. Are you injured?"

"No, Headmaster. Just a scratch."

"Then you should go to dinner and replenish your strength. Such accidental magic will have taken its toll on you." He gave Toshiro a firm push in the direction of the door. "Go on, now. I wish a word with Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall."

Bristling a little and yet relieved at the abrupt dismissal, Toshiro closed the door behind him. He took the time it took to get down to the Great Hall to compose himself, and when he walked in and sat down not a trace of his previous anger was evident in his features or body language.

And if he ate a little more than usual that night, it was because he hadn't eaten since the day before.

* * *

When the door shut behind the small boy, Dumbledore's gentle expression shifted into a thoughtful one. So that boy was the one responsible for destroying the monsters the past two years. He was the one with the crisp, cold presence that would wink out of existence once it entered the school.

Well, one question was solved. But now a whole new set had sprung up in its place…

"Albus?" Poppy questioned, breaking into his thoughts. "You wanted a word with us?"

"Yes, I did." He turned his gaze on the two witches. "That boy, he is different from the others."

"Quite right." Minerva stared at the door through which Hitsugaya had gone. "I worry about him – now more than ever. After last year, and now the boggart… I have this weird feeling that I need to keep an eye on him, keep him safe."

"I expect he can do that well enough on his own." Dumbledore didn't even blink at their questioning looks. "How did he say he warded off the dog?"

Minerva snorted in a very un-ladylike fashion. "He said he poked it with his wand. A lie, if I have ever heard one!"

"What can we do about it, though?" Poppy was holding a bottle of antiseptic and spinning it in her fingers. "He is obviously not going to give us the truth. Hagrid was there – perhaps he saw."

Dumbledore was shaking his head before she had even finished speaking. "No, I spoke to Hagrid when he told me of the incident. When he and Harry arrived the dog was already gone. He knows no more than we do."

The witches seemed to take a step back. "Then–" Minerva began.

"We shall let him be," Dumbledore said firmly, his mind made up. The witches started to protest, but he held up a hand and they fell silent. "Trust me on this. That boy is different. There is something about him… I shall look into the matter. Do not question him. Allow him to do as he wishes. If he does not want us digging into his home life, then we will honor his wish."

"But Albus, there is something not right at his home. His greatest fear – no child should fear _that_. We are his teachers – we _have_ to make sure he is all right."

"We are his teachers," Dumbledore said, forestalling Poppy's agreement. "But in this case we shall leave him be. Trust him to come to us when he is ready. You know him. Would he readily give up his secrets if we constantly question him?"

Reluctantly, the witches shook their heads. He pushed his glasses farther up his nose. "Very well, then." He turned, strode to the door, and paused. "You are right in that something is off at his home. But something tells me that what we believe and what is actually happening are two very different things. Leave things be for now. In time we will know."

With that he strode through the doors and headed for the Great Hall. Toshiro Hitsugaya… Or Hitsugaya Toshiro, as the boy probably preferred, was a mystery. One that he had never come across before in all his years at Hogwarts. He was not just a simple student – that much was clear. His presence likely signaled that things were about to change. For better or worse…well, they would see. In time.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was in the mood for pudding.

* * *

Defense Against the Dark Arts was soon every student's favorite class. Professor Lupin always made each lesson interesting, even if nothing as extraordinary as the boggart happened. On the other hand, Snape was downright hostile. His reputation as the Bat of the Dungeons was never more true.

Toshiro's detention with him had been bad, but not as awful as expected. Snape had not talked to him the entire hour, except to tell him to scour the cauldrons clean or polish the beakers. He sat behind his desk with a large stack of parchment piled in front of him, occasionally looking up to make sure Toshiro was not somehow using magic to speed up the work.

His tolerant mood probably had to do with the boggart and the dog. All of the teachers seemed to be giving him an easier time, but after a few days their new moods were really grating on Toshiro's nerves. He wanted to snap at Flitwick when the man gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder during a particularly difficult Charms lesson. He seriously considered performing a Soul Burial on Binns, and he wished he could freeze over the whole school during McGonagall's lessons.

Surprisingly, the only teacher who did not seem to get on his nerves was Lupin, who didn't act any differently around Toshiro. He found it strange – the man who had witnessed the boggart first-hand treated him no differently than a student whose greatest fear was a severed hand. Still, it was refreshing.

After the dog, however, Harry was more open to training. He seemed to be under the impression that Toshrio had used some sort of powerful Japanese magic to ward off the dog, despite the fact that the Captain continued with his 'poked the dog with his wand' story. Toshiro set him to meditating in the dorms before dinner when no one was there. Even if the boy was unable to do it, at least it gave the Shinigami some relative quiet time. After five weeks people were finally starting to ignore Toshiro again. He was no longer stared and whispered at if he walked down the halls.

When he went into the Forbidden Forest to try to track down the dog or that strange man, however, he was unable to find a single trace of either. It irritated him, but after so long he gave up looking. They would be miles away by now.

During one of Harry's attempted meditations, he threw up his hands and cried, "I just can't do it!"

Toshiro had jumped at the boy's sudden shout, and glared at him. "You can do it. It just takes practice."

"I can't do it!" Potter flopped down onto the bed. "Am I doing something wrong?"

"Not as far as I can see."

"Then why can't I do it?"

Toshiro hated to admit it, but, "I don't know. I never had a problem meditating."

And since he had never had a problem meditating, he had never had to attend classes where the instructors worked more closely with students. Thus, he didn't know how to help Potter. He would ask for help from Soul Society, but he was reluctant to ask for help in this area. The Head-Captain had given him reluctant permission to teach him this to help him control his powers, but hadn't wanted the information to get out that a Captain was teaching a boy in the World of the Living how to use Shinigami powers. They had just gotten used to Kurosaki, but a new Substitute may not go over well.

"What happens when you clear your mind?" Toshiro asked. Harry shrugged.

"I can't."

Well, at least that gives him a goal to work towards. "I'll look up how to clear your mind."

Five weeks after the incident with the boggart and the dog, people were finally starting to ignore Toshiro again. It was a nice change, to go back to the way things were. He had never liked being the center of attention, and it was so much easier to win a fight when an opponent underestimated you.

One day after classes Toshiro was curled up in his corner reading a book with Athena perched on his knee when the Trio arrived and looked at the message board. There was a new flier announcing that the first Hogsmead trip was coming up, and if they hadn't gotten their permission slip signed yet then they had better send it by owl to their parents.

The Head-Captain had signed Toshiro's during the summer, when he had briefly gone back to Soul Society. It had been one of the most embarrassing moments of Toshiro's life, having to ask the Head-Captain to sign it.

"You aren't going?!"

He was shaken out of his concentration by the loud, baffled shout from the other side of the room. Athena screeched, flapped her wings, and dove out of the window. Toshiro glared at the children.

"The Dursleys wouldn't sign it."

Well, no wonder. He did blow up the aunt.

"But, how are you going to go?"

Toshiro groaned. "He isn't," he called across the room. The three turned to face him. "If his permission slip isn't signed, then he is not going to Hogsmead. It's that simple."

"But what about McGonagall?" Ron looked to Harry, who looked dejected. "I bet she'll sign it."

"She won't," Toshiro muttered. They didn't hear him.

"I'll try," Harry said, but he didn't sound very confident.

* * *

Hitsugaya was correct that McGonagall wouldn't sign Harry's permission slip. He was present after Transfiguration class one day when the boy asked, and although McGonagall was sympathetic, she refused to sign it. She was not, as she explained while shooing frogs back into their box, his guardian. Therefore she had no legal power over Harry, other than what was given to her as his teacher and Head of House. And those powers did not extend to signing permission slips.

And when Harry protested, telling her what had happened over summer and that _there's no way the Dursleys are going to sign it_ , the witch shook her head and replied that there was nothing that she could do to help him, and that Potter would just have to find some other way to occupy himself that day.

As they walked up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower, Toshiro said that he would stay at school and they could work on Harry's meditating, but the boy refused. He would not, as he said, subject himself to torture while he was supposed to be out having fun with the rest of the student body.

Toshiro's response was to say, "You are over-dramatizing the subject," and let it go. If the boy wanted to sit and sulk instead of getting work done, that was his choice.

When the day came, however, and the students gathered to travel down to Hogsmead, Harry argued one last time with McGonagall, and when that provided no results, stood sullenly in the corner. After his papers were checked by Filch, who was muttering about muddy students hyped up on sugar, Hitsugaya went over to the boy. Hermione and Ron were already there.

"What if we sneak you out?" Ron was saying. "There's so many kids here that no one'll notice you."

"With McGonagall here? Not a chance," Hermione said, then tilted her head in thought. "What if you wear your Invisibility Cloak?"

Hitsugaya snorted softly, making the three jump. "Granger telling Potter how to break the rules? What is this?"

Hermione blushed. "I'm not - I just…"

"Don't worry about it." Toshiro gave her a nod. "It's not as if the rest of us are going to tell the teachers."

Hermione looked only a little reassured, but just as she was about to say something Filch yelled, "Get moving! Make sure you're back by nightfall or I'll stick you in the dungeons!"

"Thank you, Mr. Filch," McGonagall said hurriedly. "Be safe, children, and have fun. Follow the older students until you get to town."

With that the students started milling their way down the trail, with the upper classmen ahead and moving quickly. The third years trampled after them, chattering eagerly about what they were going to do. Toshiro heard something called 'Honeydukes' mentioned often.

Hermione turned to hug Harry. "We'll bring you back lots of stuff, don't worry!"

"Thanks," Harry muttered, staring after the students.

"Cheer up, mate." Ron slapped Harry on the back. "McGonagall'll come around eventually."

 _No she won't,_ Hitsugaya thought, but nodded to Harry and turned after the other two.

The walk down to Hogsmead only took about half an hour, but it seemed to take much longer to Toshiro, who had to listen to Ron and Hermione planning what they were going to do. Toshiro quickly excused himself from their plans once he learned that 'Honeydukes' was a candy shop and once they said that they were going to get butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks. He seriously doubted that any bartender would give thirteen year olds beer, but then again, these were wizards. Who knew what their legal drinking age was.

So, once they arrived at the town he broke off from the children and decided to wander around until he found somewhere interesting to pass the time.

Wizarding towns were very odd, he decided, watching a vender trying to sell what appeared to be self-sharpening scissors. Did they rely on magic for everything?

He reasoned that they must, as nearly everything that moved was powered by magic. A door opened by itself when a wizard approached it; chairs scooted back for several witches to sit on; there was even a fan hovering above the door to a shop that would blow cool air on customers.

While Toshiro could see why the Wizarding community would like these things and want to use magic all the time, he wondered if there was a point at which _too_ _much_ magic was actually bad for the wizards. At some point they were bound to lose the ability to do anything by themselves, and would end up depending on magic for the most basic and everyday things. And private things too, though he supposed someone had already thought up that idea and was using it for their pleasure (wizards are human, after all).

As he walked around the town and watched its inhabitants go about their lives, an uncomfortable sensation came over him, one that he knew only too well.

He was being watched.

Trying to act calm, Hitsugaya turned down a side street to cut down and out of the main streets quicker. If it was that man that had driven the dog off of him, he would definitely like to talk to him. And if it was the dog, well...there would be less talking going on.

As he passed into a small residential area the feeling lessened and he paused, wondering what to do next. Then, out of the corner of his eye he saw movement, and when he turned to look the edge of a dark cloak was disappearing around a corner. He followed it.

In this way he was led out of the town, away from the witches and wizards and magical objects. He briefly stopped to retrieve his wand from his boot. Now armed, he continued after the man.

 _It has to be that man,_ he thought, slowing to turn a corner. _That reiatsu - it has the same...depth._

Soon the town had disappeared behind him and he had to run to keep up with the man, who had lengthened his lead in the rolling hills so that Hitsugaya would only continue to catch glimpses of him. If he was inexperienced he would have long ago used shunpo to catch up with him, but many factors, not the least of which was the fact that he was a Shinigami surrounded by wizards, kept him from doing so.

Toshiro growled, growing tired of the chase. If it didn't end soon…

And then, it did.

All of a sudden he crested a hill and looked down to see a small house, built of wood and badly sagging, in front of him. He looked around, but both the man and his reiatsu had disappeared. Toshiro sighed and studied the house. Its paint was chipped so badly that he wasn't even sure what the original color was. The roof was bowing in the middle, and the windows were boarded shut. It didn't look like anyone had been in there in many years, and yet…

Hitsugaya watched the house for a few more minutes before turning away. He wasn't nearly so foolish as to go blindly charging into an unknown house in the middle of nowhere when no one knew where he was, and especially after being led here by an unknown man with strange reiatsu. He would gather information on it and come back later.

* * *

Hidden in the bushes not far away, a man watched the boy turn away from the Shack. He nodded, glad to see that the boy had some sense. He had even had his wand out during the chase.

 _I need to find out who -_ what _he is,_ the man thought. _But first…_ He turned towards the Shrieking Shack. It looked less ominous in the morning light than it had the previous night. _I go after my prey._


	11. Chapter 11

**So, as you'll see, this chapter is longer than all of the others - which I'm sure none of you will complain about. At first I was going to end it after Hitsugaya survives the staircase (you'll see), but then I realized that I'm on the eleventh chapter and I'm not even halfway through the book yet. So I'm going to try -** ** _try_** **, since I have a weird habit of ending chapters at about three thousand words long - to write longer chapters and therefore have less of them. We'll see how** ** _that_** **goes.**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Rocks and dirt crunched under his feet as Toshiro made his way up yet another hill. It was hot; the sun beat relentlessly down on him, and the fact that he was an ice-based Shinigami did not help matters. He felt as if he were going to melt, and just before he reached the ridge he stopped and took a moment to glare up at the burning ball of misery in the sky.

 _Oh, how I wish it would rain,_ he thought, and continued his trudge back to Hogsmeade.

In his hunt of the shadowy figure, Toshiro had gone further than he thought from the wizarding town, and was now forced to walk back under the unreasonably hot sun. He was almost relieved that the town was in view.

Almost.

The Captain stopped in the shade next to a fountain that bubbled cheerfully in the outskirts of the community, and just the _sound_ of running water seemed to lessen the heat a little. He dipped his hands into the water and rubbed it onto his arms in an effort to cool down. When he got moving again the air would chill the water for as long as it took to evaporate off.

Just as he turned in the direction of the more populated area of the town, however, his soul phone beeped. He looked at it and grinned. _At least I'll be able to burn off some energy._

The Hollow, while not the most powerful one he had ever seen – and certainly nothing compared to the Espada – registered high enough on the scale that he wondered if he would have to release his Shikai. The thought gave him great pleasure.

Hitsugaya quickly jogged out of town over the nearest hill, paused on its back, and swallowed a soul candy. He stepped out of the gigai and faced it with a stern look. "Don't do anything stupid," he warned. The gigai gave a sloppy salute, turned, and jogged off in the direction of town. He sighed, but decided he would just have to deal with whatever it did later. For now, he had a job to do.

* * *

"Come on," Toshiro muttered, and slapped his soul phone against his hand. "Just work, damn it. Give me a Hollow."

The irritating device had decided to go haywire on him several minutes after he had left Hogsmeade. It had originally shown the Hollow as being northwest of the school, which meant he had to go up and over the castle to get to it, which took some time since he had to climb high enough to not be seen from the ground, but when he arrived there was nothing there, and the signal disappeared. Figuring his phone had just bugged, he decided to go back to Hogsmeade, but halfway there the signal popped up again, this time appearing in the southeast corner. So, he turned around and headed right back.

 _This_ time the signal stayed where it was, but when he got there there was nothing but sharp rock below him. And so, for the last quarter-hour he had been shunpoing all over campus, over the mountains, and around the lake, chasing a red dot on his phone and did _not find a single Hollow_!

Toshiro groaned and chucked his phone as hard as he could when the signal showed up again, this time only a few miles away from his current location. _There's nothing here, you manic thing! What is_ wrong _with you?!_

In the next instant he realized what he had just done and was diving frantically after his phone.

* * *

 _It's because it's Halloween,_ Toshiro decided, sitting cross-legged in the air above Hogsmeade with his chin on his hand. _That's why this is happening. The wizards must have cursed me. Bastards._

The reason for this sudden animosity was below him, sitting on a bed of soft dirt humming. But that wasn't why he was annoyed. No, humming was tolerable. Maddening, yes, but not enough to make him want to tear his gigai's hands off.

 _The humming I will tolerate,_ Toshiro thought, gripping his zanpakuto tightly. _And I'm just going to ignore the candy. But why,_ why _, does it have to wear_ that _?!_

Sitting on the ground, humming, eating candy, was his gigai. And on its head was _the_ most ugly, embarrassing, _stupid_ thing he had ever seen.

 _I will find the programmer of the soul candy and bash his head into a wall._ Toshiro leaned forward. _Where did it even_ get _that?_

The only thing that was keeping him from going down there and tearing the _thing_ off his gigai's head was the fact that it was in a relatively hidden corner of the town, tucked into the shade behind a row of bushes and trees. Why it was there he couldn't say; he was just thankful that it wasn't dancing in the town square.

He shuddered at the thought.

 _"Relax, Master,"_ Hyourinmaru said, his rumbling laughter still echoing across the icy plain. _"Just get bushy-haired-girl or the red-head to lead your gigai out of town."_

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow, still glaring down. _"Granger and Weasley? And how do you propose I get to them without being seen?"_

The dragon paused. _"Right. Good point."_

Toshiro rubbed his temples. _"I can't even watch anymore."_

His phone beeped.

"STOP IT!"

* * *

Ron and Hermione, just coming out of Honeydukes with their arms full of sweets of every size, shape, and color, froze. "Did you hear that?" Hermione asked her friend, whose focus was currently on the blue bubble he was blowing.

"Huh?" Ron lost concentration, and the bubble popped, covering his nose, mouth, and chin in a sticky blue mess. He grimaced and scraped it away from his nose before he suffocated. "Ea wha'?"

"That's disgusting, Ronald."

Ron adopted a hurt look but she ignored him and walked down the street, looking around.

"I could have sworn I heard… Never mind. It's nothing."

The Weasley shoved the wad of gum into his cheek and grinned toothily at Hermione. "It's just the voices in your head."

Hermione made a face at him and walked off. Ron shrugged and followed, eyes crossed as he looked down at the growing bubble.

The two walked in a comfortable silence for a while as they headed out of Hogsmeade. "Do you think we should wait for Hitsugaya?" Hermione suddenly asked, looking around. They had just passed the last building, but now she was hesitating. After all, they hadn't seen the Japanese boy the whole day, and it didn't seem fair to just leave without telling him.

Ron shrugged. "Eh, he'll be fine. Come on, let's go get this to Harry."

"Yeah." Hermione cast one last look around before walking again. Ron followed, but soon discovered a problem. His gum had lost its flavor, but there was no trashcan around to spit it out in.

 _Oh well,_ he decided, pursed his lips, and spit.

The gum, which had turned into a ghastly gray color, shot through the air in an impressive arc.

Right into Hermione's hair.

Ron blinked. Twice. "Um…Hermione?"

She turned. "Yes?"

"…Nothing."

* * *

"Finally!" Toshiro stood and started jogging on the air away from town. He had just spotted Ron and Hermione walking on the well-worn trail away from Hogsmeade. He'd never been so glad to see them before. "Granger, Weasley!"

The children stopped and looked around, confused. He released the reiatsu compressing the air under his feet and dropped lightly to the ground. His haori settled around his ankles as he stood.

He couldn't help but feel more than a little satisfied when he saw their slightly stunned looks, but the feeling died when he remembered what he was there for.

"You can fly?" Ron asked, mouth hanging open. Hitsugaya frowned and leaned forward, closing it for him.

"You'll catch flies." The boy glared at him, but he turned his attention to the useful one. "My gigai's acting up and I need you to get it out of town so I can reenter it."

"Your gi – oh, right. Yeah."

Hermione was looking at him strangely, and didn't seem to have registered what he said. He gestured sharply towards the town. "Can you go get it?" he asked, somewhat impatiently.

She seemed to snap to. "Oh, yeah, of course. Where is it?"

 _Yes!_ "West side of town, near the duck fountain. It's hiding behind some bushes and trees." Granger responded with a blank look. "West."

He pointed, but then a large bag was shoved in his arms. "I'll be right back!" Hermione said cheerfully, and ran off in the direction he'd indicated.

Hitsugaya shifted the bag onto his left arm and used his free hand to peer inside. "Did you buy the entire store?"

"No."

Toshiro shook his head. "You know what? Eat whatever you want. It'll be amusing for me if you get stuck in the Divination trapdoor."

Instead of getting angry, Ron appeared thoughtful. "If I get stuck do you think I won't have to take Divination anymore?"

"No, I think she'll take it as a sign of the impending apocalypse and lock herself up there forever."

"Give me that!" Ron snatched the bag of candy and started scarfing it down. Toshiro shrugged and sat on a low wall nearby to wait.

It didn't take long for Hermione to reappear with Hitsugaya's gigai in tow. She looked like she was struggling not to laugh. Ron, unfortunately, did not share the same restraint. He took one look at the gigai and burst out laughing, spraying crumbs of…something all over.

"What…is _that_?" He doubled over, grasping his stomach. "Bloody hell it's ugly!"

"Laugh it up," Toshiro muttered, stalking over to his gigai – who was getting a little _too_ close to Hermione for his comfort – and ripped the abomination off its head. He tossed it far, _far_ away, and glitter came off in a sparkling arc. It covered his hand and wouldn't come off even when he wiped it against the wall. "Ugh."

Unfortunately it was still there when he stepped into his gigai. He rotated his shoulders, trying to get used to the additional height again, and looked up. Hermione's face was red. "Just get it out of your system," he groaned, then reached up to ruffle his hair back to its usual fluffiness. To his horror, little shining flecks drifted down.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore. She had to brace herself on the wall in order not to fall over in her mirth. Ron swallowed a ball of taffy. Toshiro crossed his arms and scowled, deciding he would pretend he didn't know the Heimlich.

It took several minutes for the two children to settle down. Even then they would glance up (down) at his hair and deteriorate into helpless giggles. He waited not so patiently for them to finish. When it seemed they could contain themselves he asked darkly, "Are you done?"

Sadly, that only set them off again.

Toshiro decided not to tell Hermione about the gum in her hair.

* * *

Harry was decidedly unimpressed with the candy that Ron and Hermione brought back for him, even though it created a small mountain on the table. He poked half-heartedly at it, and barely looked up when the two told him about all their adventures. The only time he cracked a smile was when they told him about Toshiro and the Glitter Incident.

Fortunately they were the first ones back, so the Captain paused on the way up the stairs. "If you tell anyone about this," he growled, turning slowly to face the three, "I will personally make sure that your souls wander in the Void for all eternity."

Considering they didn't know what the Void was, they weren't frightened, but at least it sounded impressive and kept them from spilling it all over campus. It took Toshiro many handfuls of shampoo to get the glitter out of his hair, and then when he dried off he spent several minutes threading his fingers through it looking for any stragglers. Satisfied, he returned to the common room, where most of the Gryffindors had returned from Hogsmeade and were excitedly telling stories of their time there and proudly showing off their bounty. The noise made him wince, so he ducked out the portrait door and headed down early for dinner.

The Great Hall was festooned with carved pumpkins that glowed from inside with candles, streamers that were so brilliant they seemed to be on fire, and a dark cloud of bats that swooped around the room. Hitusgaya stared up at them, eyebrows raised.

"Hagrid raised them just for this occasion."

The Shinigami looked across the room at the head table to see Dumbledore in his throne-like chair in the middle. The old man was sitting with his fingers tented, half-moon spectacles sparking in the candlelight. Toshiro glanced up again, then back at the Headmaster.

"What if they scat in our food?"

Dumbledore looked startled, but was saved from answering by a side door opening and Professor Lupin entering. "Headmaster, Hitsugaya."

Toshiro inclined his head and took a seat as Dumbledore said, sounding relieved, "Remus, you're looking well."

At this Toshiro frowned and took a closer look at the professor. He looked tired but cheerful, as he usually did. _The Headmaster is odd, I know that_ , Toshiro thought.

The feast was delicious, even if he didn't eat much. Many of the various foods were too rich or sweet for his liking, and the cooks seemed to have forgotten to make anything Japanese. He ended up hoarding a plate of buttered rolls, and glared at anyone who made to grab one.

He watched the head table more often at this meal, still curious about Dumbledore's earlier remark. It was quite amusing to try to figure out what Lupin was saying to Flitwick, considering he was waving his hands around as he talked, almost smacking McGonagall on the nose once. Then he noticed something odd.

Snape, sitting a few seats down, kept looking over at Lupin. His upper lip curled almost imperceptibly each time. Toshiro, curious about what was making him so upset, took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to block all the childrens' weaker signatures from his senses and focus on the head table. Dumbledore's magical signature glowed blindingly, making Toshiro wince. He hurriedly shut him out and moved down the line.

He was distracted, however, by two things. The first didn't actually come from one of the adults.

He knew his wand was different, but when he did this – he wasn't even sure it _was_ a wand. It just didn't put out the same kind of signature as the rest in the Hall. Theirs were like tiny flashlights in the students' pockets, while his seemed to pulsate with what he could only describe as _cold_. The sensation fascinated him, until the second thing occupied his attention.

Not far away, _inside_ the castle, was that strange magical signature that seemed to tumble over itself.

The one he had identified as belonging to the dog that had attacked him.

"Hitsugaya, look!"

An elbow in his ribs jolted him out of concentration, and he opened his eyes, blinking owlishly. When he could focus again, he saw that the ghosts of Hogwarts were flying around the room in precise movements. They swept around for several minutes, finally ending in a pyramid formation, and the Great Hall shook with applause. Toshiro winced and quietly got up from his seat just as Nearly Headless Nick started to demonstrate his own death. Why he would want to relive that, Toshiro had no idea. He knew that if he remembered _his_ death he wouldn't be in any hurry to go through it again.

He managed to slip through the doors without anyone noticing, seeing as they were all staring at the ghost who was pretending to chop his own head off, and set off quickly down the hall. _Damn this gigai!_ he swore. It was stronger than a normal human, but was so restricting from his normal self. And with the size modification –

Suddenly, the signature changed, becoming what he considered to be normal for a wizard. Toshiro froze, a memory from his first year suddenly flashing through his mind.

* * *

 _The class chattered noisily as they trickled in. Toshiro sat near the back, chin on his hand._ I'm a Shinigami; I should not have to do this!

 _When the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class there still was no teacher present, the students started to get antsy. Toshiro crossed his arms over his chest and his legs at the ankles and decided to take a nap._

 _Then the door opened and the class hushed suddenly, so he opened his eyes lazily and looked over to see…a cat. A tabby, more specifically. It sauntered up to the front of the room, the tip of its tail curling over on itself. Toshiro watched it curiously as it turned to face the class, who was now completely silent, expecting the cat to do…something. He wondered if this was some strange Wizarding tradition he was unaware of. Then again, he was completely in the dark in regards to the Wizards, so it was very possible._

 _But then the cat transformed. Toshiro blinked in quiet astonishment. He had seen many things as a Shinigami, but never had he seen a cat turn into a human. A very familiar human._

 _"Welcome to Transfiguration," Professor McGonagall said, looking around at the gaping students. "It is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned." She paused. "Any questions?"_

 _A question had been burning in the back of Toshiro's mind ever since she had walked in. He raised his hand, still reclining back in his chair. She nodded to him, so he said, "How did you open the door as a cat?"_

* * *

McGonagall, sadly, had never answered his question. So, Hitsugaya suffered in silence every moment since then.

Well, perhaps that was an exaggeration, but he _was_ genuinely curious. The doorknob on the door to the Transfiguration classroom was round, and the door had been closed, so _how did she get in_?

 _Now that I think about it,_ Toshiro thought, jogging up a staircase, _she might have used magic._

He skidded to a halt and heaved a sigh. _Why did I spend so much time on this?!_

Just as he started moving again he heard a loud, piercing shriek. Instinct had him crouch and reach out with his senses before the echoes had even dissipated. Confirming that there was nothing dangerous in his immediate vicinity, he was up and running within an instant. As he ran he noticed that the people in the paintings – which liberally covered Hogwarts's stone walls – were cowering in their frames.

 _Odd._ He pushed on, pausing briefly to slide his wand from his boot – which he probably should have done earlier, but oh well – when the strange wizard's reiatsu was suddenly on the move.

 _Oh no you don't!_ Hitsugaya skidded around a corner and changed his heading, aiming to cut off the wizard before he could leave the castle.

As he ran he spread his senses, trying to slip into a relaxed state where he could sense the position of everything that gave off a reiatsu around him. He had just achieved this as he was sprinting down a staircase.

In hindsight – probably not his best idea.

Distracted and trying to remember how to get around this irritating maze for a school while simultaneously making sure he didn't run into any witches or wizards, Toshiro didn't notice that the staircase suddenly shuddered – its only warning that it was about to move. And so, when he was only halfway down, it jerked to the side and Toshiro stumbled, regaining his balance just in time to see that a rather large gap between the bottom of the stairs and the floor had opened up. He had just enough time to curse violently in his head before he reached it and was forced to jump.

For a split second as Toshiro leaped he judged the distances and feared he was going to fall short. The thought that if he fell he was a _terrible_ Shinigami flashed through his mind just before his feet hit the floor and he ducked into a roll to absorb the impact. He took a brief moment to smirk triumphantly before pushing off again.

* * *

When the feast ended, all Hermione wanted to do was curl up in bed with a book and read until she fell asleep, and was therefore quite irritated when the hallway by the portrait door to the common room was blocked by grumbling students. She decided to do some grumbling of her own and try to push her way up to the front, but the students were packed in so tightly she couldn't get anywhere. Finally she turned back to Ron, the tallest of the Trio, who was on his toes trying to see over the heads of the other students.

"See anything?" she asked, and Ron shook his head.

"Not through all these blasted–"

He was shoved aside rather abruptly by his brother the Prefect, who, once he had managed to gain access to the portrait, immediately called for Dumbledore. Once the man arrived Hermione got her first and only look at the ruined portrait, but was quickly distracted by Peeves, who mockingly told the story about Sirius Black. Looking the most serious that they'd ever seen him, Dumbledore sent all the Gryffindors down to the Great Hall. Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff all joined them, and Dumbledore told them that they were going to sleep there for the night.

The students immediately divided themselves into four large groups and spread out across the Hall. Hermione snagged a bright blue sleeping bag for herself and set it down next to her roommates. Ron and Harry were nearby, but she didn't see a head of white hair anywhere, so she sat up to look around.

"Everyone go to sleep!" Percy bellowed, and the whispers died momentarily before coming back again full-force. Hermione felt a pull on her sleeve.

"Lie down," Lavender whispered. Hermione tugged her arm free.

"Hold on." She swept the room again, then, ignoring Lavender, inched her sleeping bag down to Ron and Harry. They looked up with curious expressions as she approached. "Have you seen Hitusgaya?"

Both boys immediately sat up and looked around. "No," Harry reported. Ron shook his head.

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "We should tell a teacher."

"No!" Harry ducked his head at the sudden outburst, casting a look over at the nearest Prefect, who hadn't even turned in their direction. "I don't think we should," he said more quietly. Hermione started to ask why, but he spoke over her. "He'll be fine. I don't know… I've just got this feeling… Trust me, please?"

Hermione nodded reluctantly. Ron grunted and flopped down on his back. "Can't have a normal year with that kid around," he grumbled. Hermione punched his shoulder. "Ow!"

* * *

Toshiro eyed the dog lying on the ground before him and sighed, rubbing his temples. "I know you are an Animagus," he said, weariness and irritation creeping into his voice, "so there really is no point in staying in that form." The dog, as expected, did nothing but look scornfully at him. Well, as scornfully as a dog could, anyway.

Leaning forward, Toshiro tapped his wand against his knee. The dog's eyes were drawn to the movement. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you." He paused. "Probably. But whether or not I do depends on what you do. I can spend all night out here, if I need to. But I _really_ don't want to, so you might as well turn into your human form and tell me what I want to know."

The dog growled and struggled against the muscle-locking spell the Shinigami had him in. Hitsugaya resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I may be new to magic, but you are not going to break free of it," he warned, and then, with a wry grin, added, "Besides, I have other ways to keep you here."

 _Let him puzzle that one over,_ he thought, and watched as the dog's long ears flattened against his head. _He's persistent – I'll give him that._

A thought occurred to him. He smiled, but the humor did not reach his eyes. He shifted, making sure he had the Animagus's attention before speaking. When he did, his voice was thoughtful. "I remember reading something about a spell that can forcibly shift a wizard from his animal form to his human one. I think I can recall it, although I cannot guarantee it will be my best spell ever…"

Toshiro absently flicked his wand and a nearby dead leaf burst into flames. He winced and stamped it out. "Oh dear," he said, inflecting his voice with mock sadness. "That keeps happening…" He shrugged sheepishly at the dog. "I'm not very good at magic, you see," he said, lowering his voice as if confessing an embarrassing secret. "Never have been. Now, what was that spell again?"

The dog whined uncertainly, his eyes flicking around the woods around them. "There's no one here," Toshiro said cheerfully. "We're all alone. Oh, never mind with that spell. I can't remember the wording, but I'm sure it'll come back to me. I'm more curious about…" He reached forward to pat the dog, but thought better of it and pulled back his hand. Who knew when he had last bathed? He was guessing it'd been a while.

"I don't really care why you entered the castle tonight – actually, no, I _am_ curious about that, but it can wait. What I want to know is why you attacked me a few weeks ago. That's all. I just want an explanation, and I'll let you go."

For a long moment he and the dog just stared at each other. The Shinigami sat calmly, relaxed. The dog, still restrained, panted heavily. Then, closing its eyes almost reluctantly, it nodded. Slightly surprised, Toshiro released the spell on the dog and it scrambled to its feet, shaking the dead leaves and debris off its matted coat. It really was big – its shoulders were level with the top of Toshiro's head, and he was sitting.

The dog took a step back. Toshiro scowled. "Do I need to restrain you again?" he threatened. The dog heaved a sigh and, in one blink of an eye, transformed into a man.

A very filthy, smelly man.

Toshiro stared up at him, instantly recognizing his face. "Sirius Black," he breathed, and then his body caught up with his mind and he stood, raising his wand defensively.

Yet, strangely, the escaped convict held up his hands nonthreateningly. "Just an explanation," he said. Toshiro held in a wince. His teeth were – ugh.

"I'm listening." Toshiro didn't lower his wand. Black eyed it, then turned a glare on the boy.

"You threatened Harry with that."

Out of all the things Hitsugaya had expected, _that_ hadn't been one of them. In his confused state he could only offer up an intelligent "Huh?"

Black scowled. "You threatened Harry. I didn't want you to hurt him."

Toshiro lowered his wand fractionally. "You tried to kill me because I – You didn't even _hear_ the conversation, did you?"

"No." Black looked defensive. "I didn't need to."

"I think it would have been helpful," Toshiro groaned. "Look, I was just trying to make a point. If I wanted to harm Potter I wouldn't do it on school grounds, where everyone can see. Much less in daylight. How daft do you think I am?"

Black opened his mouth but no sounds came out. Toshiro waved a hand. "No, don't answer that." He sighed, then frowned. "Why do you care about Potter?"

Black's soft sound made him look up in time to see his weary expression melt into something unfamiliar. It looked…warm? Almost – His heart contracted. Paternal. Black looked like an indulgent father.

 _I wonder what it's like,_ Toshiro wondered as Black took a moment to collect himself. _To have a father who – who_ cares _._

In the next instant the thought was forgotten and overwhelmed by a new sensation.

Darkness. A deep, utter emptiness from which there was no end, no retreat. All-encompassing. Unworldy.

Toshiro shivered – not at the sudden chill in the air, but at the bleak darkness that was creeping upon his soul. His inner world darkened, and black stretched across the pale sky like ink in water. Hyourinmaru rumbled uneasily, growling at the spreading cloud.

He knew this feeling. He had felt it before.

Turning, Hitsugaya saw a wraith-like figure drifting through the dark forest towards him, its tattered cloak whipping in a nonexistent wind.

Dementor.

Fighting off an uncomfortable shudder, Toshiro reached into his pocket for his soul candy dispenser – he would deal with the creature out of his gigai and talk more with the escaped prisoner afterwards. Then a dread that had nothing to do with the dementor chilled him to the very core.

The dispenser was not in his pocket.

Very slowly, Toshiro raised his wand and muttered a shielding spell, hoping that would suffice to ward off the dementor. He held his breath as the creature reached the barrier, paused, then pushed right through it. Behind him Black shifted anxiously, clearly desperate to flee but frozen in place. But Toshiro did not pay attention to him. His attention was concentrated on putting up another shield, then another, this one stronger and mixed with an electric shock. The dementor didn't even pause this time.

"Right," Toshiro whispered, and took a step back. Unable to get out of his gigai, he was left with no other choice. "Time to go."

He was prepared to shunpo away, then and there, when he turned to look at Black.

The Animagus was staring at the dementor like a deer in headlights, his whole body quivering with the urge to flee but unable to do so. His mind told him to _run_ , while his muscles were locked in place. He wouldn't move. Couldn't.

Hitsugaya glanced back at the dementor, uncertain. It seemed in no hurry, enjoying its hunt. He understood that. He also understood, somehow, that the creature was not after him. If he left it would not pursue him. It was after the Animagus. An escaped prisoner. Also a human being.

Now, Hitsugaya was cold, but he wasn't heartless. And despite his obvious irritation with the man, he had no wish to see him in the clutches of a dementor. He didn't know what would happen, but he was certain it was something he would never wish on anyone but his worst enemy. And this man was not Aizen.

Toshiro loathed to touch him, but felt that nothing else would break his self-inflicted spell of terror. "Run," he said, shoving at the man's chest. Black simply swayed where he stood, eyes locked on the dementor. "Go!" Toshiro urged, more forcefully this time. But the man did not move. Toshiro looked back. It was only feet away.

The Captain stepped close to Black, hating what he had to do next. "Black," he said, adopting the harsh tone of command. "Move. Now. Or I _will_ drag you."

He was probably correct in assuming that the man had no military training, but the voice worked on soldiers and civilians alike. Swallowing back regret as he did so, Toshiro shoved the man again, this time hard enough that he had to stumble back a few steps to regain his balance. "Go. Now!"

He was free. Black blinked gratefully at him, turned, and – froze.

Behind him was another dementor, this one much, _much_ closer.

Without thinking, Toshiro put himself in between the man and the wraith. His training, he would come to realize. _Protect the weak. Fight for those who are unable to._

The dementor reared back briefly, most likely surprised at a white-haired child willingly putting himself between it and its prey. Then it recovered and reached forward, just like the one on the train.

When its shriveled, skeletal finger touched his forehead, Toshiro stiffened. The trees and the dementors and Black and the night was swept away in a tidal wave of white. A female voice, snapping and cold like the first frost of winter and yet achingly soft, echoed in his mind.

 _Hear me, my Prince, and live…_

And then there were hands on his shoulders and he was thrown aside, landing on the damp, leaf-covered ground, and a harsh white light illuminated a tall figure in a cloak whose arms were spread protectively.


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay, so, so far I've kept up with my promise to give you longer chapters. This one is about six thousand words, double my normal length. :)**

 **So, about Neko - I literally used Google Translate to...translate...cat into Japanese. If something's wrong with it I would appreciate if you would let me know. Thank you.**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

The dementors fled from the light and the figure, swiftly disappearing into the safety of the night. Toshiro sat up as the light faded and the figure lowered his arms, back bowed as if exhausted. Then he turned, and Toshiro's eyes widened.

The man was wearing a cloak, which hid his body, and his face looked normal, but his eyes were slits, standing vertically in the iris like a cat's. He couldn't tell what color they were in the current light, but they flashed just like an animal's.

Silence took the woods as the three stared at one another. The cloaked man shifted anxiously, breaking his gaze away to scan the dark forest, and the motion shook Toshiro out of his stupor. He stood quickly and backed away from the two, his wand held ready by his hip. "Right," he said, his voice seeming to boom in the still air. "I think explanations are in order. From all of us."

"Not here," the man said immediately, glancing around again. "I just scared those two. They'll come back, with others."

"I know a safe place." Toshiro shifted his gaze to Black, who'd spoken. The escaped prisoner held his gaze. "Follow me."

Letting out a soft huff, Toshiro shook his head. "How about telling us where you want to go, first." It was not a question.

The strange cat-eyed man shot the Shinigami a curious look. "Us?"

"You shot him off me then went after him, so I'm assuming that you are not after me." Toshiro frowned. So many questions…

Black threw up his hands and turned, starting to walk into the darkness of the forest. Dead leaves crunched under his feet. "I'm going to the Shrieking Shack. Come or not, I don't care. But the school's probably in lockdown after that lady raised the alarm, so there's no way you're getting back in."

"That lady? Shrieking Shack?" Hitsugaya asked suspiciously. Sounds pleasant.

The new man spoke up this time, surprisingly cheerfully. "The old house you followed me to outside Hogsmeade."

"That _was_ you." Toshiro felt slightly better. At least his concerns were validated.

"Are you coming or not?"

Toshiro glared at Black's retreating back but waited for the cat-eyed man to start walking first before following. They traveled in silence for a few minutes, Toshiro well aware that his white hair was likely shining like a beacon in the night. He'd have to do something about that. Perhaps there was a spell to change its color. Immediately after having that thought he rejected it with a vehemence that surprised him.

It appeared the cat-eyed man had been having similar thoughts, as he turned his head and called over his shoulder, "Can you do something about your hair? It's burning my eyes."

"Don't look at it, then," Toshiro grumbled, but shook his head. "Don't know a spell for that," he answered, raising his voice.

The man raised his hands, fingers going to the cloak's clasp at his neck, but hesitated. "I'll give you my cloak, but you have to promise not to tell anyone what you see."

Toshiro frowned. Based on the man's request alone he would probably have to report it back to Soul Society, even though he would hate doing it. The most he could do was give himself a loophole while at the same time offering the man a graceful way out. "As long as whatever I see does not endanger anyone's soul."

With that both the man and Black turned and gave him odd looks, which he ignored. He was not going to say any more, for to do so would risk the discovery of what he was, which would in turn reveal the Soul Society and the Shinigami. And he had already done enough damage in that department as is.

"It does not," the man said slowly. He looked closely at Hitsugaya for a few seconds before turning to Black and giving him the same request. Black simply nodded, obviously curious about what was under the cloak. Very slowly, very reluctantly, the cat-eyed man unbuckled his cloak and slipped it off, pausing for a moment with the material in his hands to allow time for the two of them to stare.

Poking out of two slits in the back of his shirt were two small, badly under-developed wings with downy feathers, useless for flight. As Toshiro watched they twitched, as if the man was uncomfortable and wanted to spread them but was unable to.

Now, Shinigami often came with odd attachments and an assortment of limbs, which likely stemmed from their reiatsu leaking out and changing their appearance, so he didn't see this as much of a shock, other than the fact that it was odd for a mortal to have wings. And cat eyes. Instead, Toshiro scanned the man's reiatsu signature. It seemed normal, other than being a little chaotic.

Realizing he was staring, Toshiro lifted his gaze up to meet the man's eyes, which were watching him nervously, obviously waiting for some snide comment or rude observation. His pupils widened when he said instead, "Spell gone wrong?"

The man blinked and worked his jaw. "No. Metamorphmagus gone wrong."

"Metamorph – What?" He should be used to surprises after spending this long in the wizarding world. But no. They just _had_ to keep throwing stuff at him.

"Meta – I'll tell you later. For now just put on the cloak and let's keep moving." He tossed it at Hitsugaya, who caught it easily and slipped it on, noticing with irritation that it was more than a little too big for him. He hid his grumbling and pulled up the cowl.

But when they turned back to continue, they found Black was still staring. "A metamorphmagus! They're rare – like Tonks. Do you know Nymphadora Tonks?" There was a strange look in his eyes: a burning worry, as if the answer the cat-eyed man gave was life or death.

A dark look crossed the man's face, and he scowled at Black. "No. Never heard of her. Now, lead us to the Shack."

Black scowled at the order, but Toshiro couldn't read any more emotions off him since he shifted into his dog form and loped off. The cat-eyed man and the Shinigami followed, easily keeping pace with the dog. Toshiro was practically bursting with questions, but knew he would get no answers from a dog or the man, who looked about ready to murder someone. Toshiro could empathize.

Very soon, however, they ran into a problem. Several of them. The closer they got to the castle (which seemed like an odd place to go if they wanted to go to Hogsmeade, especially for an escaped prisoner) the more dementors they encountered milling around. At one point they paused at the edge of the Forest's tree line and looked at the castle, seeing all the creatures floating over the school, circling towers and spires and dipping down into courtyards.

"Not good," the cat-eyed man muttered. Toshiro shot him a look.

"Can't you just scare them off again?"

A small smile quirked his lips. "Not if I want to attract attention to us." He glanced down at the dog and muttered, so quiet that Toshiro barely heard, "Though I might end up wanting that."

Before the Captain could reply, Black turned and headed deeper into the forest so that they couldn't be seen from the castle grounds before running parallel to the tree line. In this manner they skirted the castle until they came to their destination: a big, broad tree with a thick trunk and many limbs. "The Whomping Willow?" Toshiro asked, tilting his head.

The Whomping Willow had quite the reputation at school, and even Toshiro knew of the games the children liked to play with it, despite the rules forbidding them to go near it and his own revulsion of society. From what he had heard, the children would compete to see who could get the closest to it without getting thrown away. He had even heard that Ron and Harry had crashed their car into it last year, resulting in it needing medical treatment from a furious Professor Sprout.

And then there was one memorable day after Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Lockhart (may his smile never twinkle) when Hitsugaya had been ready to decapitate the man with one of his own portraits. In order to calm down he had left the castle and taken a walk around campus, leaving the air bitterly cold behind him, when he had found the Whomping Willow and decided to sit there and watch the wrathful tree. He felt a connection with it, wanting to kill anyone that came too near.

He had been watching the tree when there had was a streak of white and a _poof_ – suddenly there were feathers everywhere. It took him a few seconds, but when he realized what had happened he couldn't stop laughing. One second the bird was there then – _wham_! Just feathers.

"There's a tunnel under it," the cat-eyed man said, bringing Toshiro out of his memory. "I've seen Black use it before."

At that the dog shot the man a look, but he refused to elaborate, and completely ignored the dog. Toshiro shook his head and returned his attention to the tree. Lit only by the stars, the tree did not seem dangerous. But he'd seen what it could do, and he had no desire to be the bird.

"So how do we get in?"

In answer, Black suddenly streaked forward, exploding out of the bushes towards the tree. The cat-eyed man cursed and followed, with Toshiro not far behind. Up ahead, Black had reached the tree and was now dodging its attacking limbs, darting from side to side. One branch almost caught him, but he ducked just in time for the branch to go whistling over his head. Then he was at the trunk and pressed his paw to the bark, and the tree went still, freezing even in mid-attack.

The man was surprisingly fast, and reached the tree a few seconds before Toshiro. He followed Black down a hole near the base of the trunk and disappeared into the darkness. Toshiro followed, sliding down a short, earthy tunnel before reaching the bottom and taking a few steps to regain his balance.

The only light in the place came from the hole, and considering it was nighttime there wasn't much illumination. Toshiro felt very vulnerable as he stood with his back against a wall, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He started when a voice spoke from just in front of him.

"Use your wand."

 _Right._ Fumbling for a second, Hitsugaya slipped the thing from his boot and flicked it. " _Lumos_." Harsh light flared, and all present winced.

The clicking of the dog's claws against the stones underfoot led the cat-eyed man and the Shinigami Captain further down the tunnel, and Toshiro was immensely glad for his senses, as he could tell that there were no other beings down there with them, other than many small insects and bugs. A light pricking on his arm made him look down to see that a large spider was clinging to his wrist, its two front legs lifted. He brushed it off and hoped it wasn't poisonous.

Several minutes later, Toshiro started to notice that they were near Hogsmeade, evident by the large amount of grown witches and wizards around. At the same time the earthen walls and floor were braced and covered with rotting wood. It was so old that he could easily peel off a large splinter.

Then they were suddenly in a room – a basement, judging by the high-up, small windows and support pillars. They ascended a short set of stairs into the first floor of a very old, very dusty house. What little light filtered through the boarded-up windows was gray and weak. There was a thick coating of dust on everything, although Toshiro could see many large paw prints. Evidently Black had been staying here for a while.

The convict in question led them up another staircase that creaked whenever they stepped, the banister wobbly. Finally Black stopped at what appeared to be a bedroom. It was falling apart just as much as the rest of the house, but the blankets on the bed were ruffled and had obviously been slept in. The dog jumped up on in it, turned, and shifted back into a human once more. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over the covers to smooth out the wrinkles.

"Take a seat," he said, nodding to a couch and a couple chairs on the other side of the room. The cat-eyed man sat gingerly on the couch while Toshiro eyed the chairs, testing one. One of its legs was several inches shorter than the others, but it seemed sturdy enough. He sat.

 _Creak._ The wind blew against the house.

 _Rustle._ The cat-eyed man crossed his legs, reconsidered, and uncrossed them.

 _Bam!_ A loose board slamming against a door made them all jump.

Black cleared his throat. "So… You have questions?"

 _Thump._ Toshiro shifted his weight and the chair tilted. He leaned the other way to get it back onto three legs.

"Why don't we start with names?" he said, and Black looked relieved. The cat-eyed man sank down into the couch. "I…guess I'll go first. I am Hitsugaya Toshiro."

Black lifted a hand. "Sirius Black."

They both looked at the cat-eyed man, who looked like he was trying to become one with the couch. He mumbled something that Hitsugaya couldn't hear – and that was surprising, since he was used to his Vice-Captain muttering whenever she didn't want to tell him something. Good hearing was a necessity when working with her.

Then again, so was learning to ignore her.

"You don't have a name?" Black asked the man, who reluctantly shook his head.

"I have a name."

They waited. "You don't want to give it to us," Toshiro said, and the man nodded. Well, he understood that perfectly well, but they needed _something_ to call him. "Do you have an alias? Nickname? We can't just say 'hey you' if we need to address you."

The man stared at him with those slit-pupil eyes. "You are one odd child."

Toshiro bristled. "I am not a child."

"Well you look like one."

"Be assured that I am not." The Captain glared at the man. "If you don't give us a name I will be perfectly willing to give you one, and you should know that none of the ones I have in mind are flattering."

The man's pupils narrowed to mere streaks of black, but his lips curved upward in a smile. "A feisty child."

"Bob!" Black suddenly burst out. "How 'bout we call you Bob?"

Toshiro wrinkled his nose. "You can't call someone Bob," he protested. "That's a boring name. If we're going to name him, he's going to have a good name."

"You just insulted all the Bobs in the world," the cat-eyed man said, clearly amused. "You should apologize." Toshiro ignored him.

"Well, what do you suggest?" Black leaned forward. "Where are you from, anyway? Your name is foreign."

"I am well aware that it is foreign. I'm from Japan." He paused a moment to think. "What about…Neko?"

"Neko?" The two other males repeated the name. "What kind of name is that?" Black asked. Toshiro shot him a dry look.

"It's Japanese. It means cat."

"Cat."

"You know, for the…eyes…" Toshiro trailed off and waved his hands vaguely in the air. "Never mind."

 _Crrrrreeeeeaaaaak._ A door slowly blew open in the wind.

"I kind of like it," the cat-eyed man said thoughtfully. "I'll take it!"

Black frowned at him. "What's wrong with Bob?" he complained.

"Bob's dull."

"Now who's insulting the Bobs?" Toshiro muttered. They lapsed into a painful silence again.

 _"This is like watching a horrible soap opera,"_ Hyourinmaru groaned, burrowing into a snow-pile. _"Do something already!"_

"So…" Toshiro started, spinning his wand in his hands. The light it gave off spun sickeningly around the room and he quickly stopped. "Who are you?"

"Neko."

"Yes, we've got that!" Black shouted, standing and pointing at the cat-eyed man, his thin finger shaking. "Why have you been following me?"

The newly-named Neko and Hitsugaya stared at Black. "That was abrupt," Neko observed mildly.

Toshiro sighed. He could tell that it was already well past midnight, and he couldn't sit here all night and banter back and forth, despite the lack of work that would go on tomorrow. None of the students would be focused, the teachers would be tense, and all that would happen was yelling and many detentions getting assigned. "Just answer the question," he said wearily. The cat-eyed man glanced at him.

"Well, I was trying to make it interesting, but fine. But I'm afraid I can't be of much use. You I'm interested in because I saw you jump off a building then disappear." He pointed at Toshiro, who frowned, trying to remember when he had done that. He'd done it many times recently… "And you are a murderer who wants to kill a child." He nodded to Black. "I had plans, but they…"

"I do not!" Moving very quickly for a mortal, Black was up and across the room in an instant, grabbing the man's shirt and half lifting him up. "I am not a murderer!"

"Release him, Black." The escaped prisoner turned to see Hitsugaya's wand pointed at him, the illuminating spell gone, plunging the room back into the uncertain light. "Now."

Black let out an irritated growl but dropped Neko, who braced himself before edging away from the man. "And you," Black said, pointing at Toshiro. "I think we should hear about _you_. Who are you, and what do you want with Harry?"

"Sit down and we can talk." When Black did not move, Toshiro flicked his wand a little with no intent to cast a spell. Black scowled and trudged back to the bed. The springs protested when he sat. "All right." Toshiro relit the tip of his wand and sat warily on the chair. "To answer your questions, I already told you my name, and I do not 'want' anything with Potter. I am one of his roommates and we are what you could call friends, although I call it persistent nagging on Granger's part."

"How did you jump from the building and survive?" Neko looked genuinely curious, and not at all ominous. If anything, he seemed like a little kid who had just discovered a new toy and was eager to see how it worked.

Toshiro hesitated. He couldn't tell them the truth, obviously. Luckily for him, however, there was an easy way out. "Magic," he shrugged. "Enchanted my shoes before leaving school. They never knew."

"How did you disappear?"

"Went into the crowd." He could see that Neko was nowhere near satisfied with that answer, but decided it was time to move on. He turned to Black. "Neko said you are a murderer? I remember reading something about some Muggles and a wizard. If you didn't kill them, why were you imprisoned?"

Toshiro was trying to be patient here, but he was painfully aware of the minutes ticking by. They probably wouldn't get through all of everyone's questions in one night.

"I did not kill anyone," Black growled. " _He_ did. _He_ blew up the street, not me. He cut off his own finger to make everyone _think_ he died, and that I killed him."

Neko looked decidedly unconvinced. Hitsugaya turned his attention back to Black, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands clutching his knees. "Who?" he asked gently. "Who killed them?"

"Pettigrew," Black spat. "Peter Pettigrew."

"Your friend," Neko supplied helpfully. Toshiro groaned.

It was going to be a _long_ night.

* * *

Hitsugaya ended up cutting off their conversation somewhere near four in the morning, his internal clock telling him that the sun would be rising soon. The three of them had gone over much that night, and his head was swimming with so much information that he knew he was going to have a headache soon. Joy.

For example, Neko (he still wouldn't say his real name) was apparently a metamorphmagus, a wizard that could change his appearance and even his gender at will. But he could no longer do that, as he explained succinctly, because of an accident in his youth. He would say no more than that; no more on his history or anything personal.

Meanwhile, Black insisted that Peter Pettigrew – a rat Animagus and previously his friend – was Voldemort's follower, and it was he who killed the Muggles, not Black. The only reason Black had broken out of Azkaban was to protect Potter by killing Pettigrew. (He was not amused when Neko pointed out that this would make him a murderer, something the man vehemently denied being.)

What interested Hitusgaya the most about the escaped prisoner's story was that Pettigrew was apparently Ron's pet rat, Scabbers. (Hitsugaya was skeptical about this, but resolved to study the rat more carefully before further action was taken.) Black wanted to enter the castle and kill the rat, and when he realized Toshiro could get him in he spent the rest of the night arguing with the Captain. Toshiro refused to smuggle him into the castle on the grounds that he still didn't trust the man. He did, however, promise to investigate Scabbers and, if the rat proved to be Pettigrew, would deal with him then.

He then extracted a promise from Black that he wouldn't try to enter the castle again. Black only agreed to this when Toshiro and Neko threatened him, Toshiro with revealing his presence and Neko with death.

Toshiro wasn't sure when it had happened, but at some point in the night he and Neko had started teaming up on Black, pressuring the man whenever he didn't want to give answers. They made a good team, he had to admit, although he wasn't sure what to do about the metamorphmagus.

He and Neko left the Shrieking Shack together to find that the eastern sky was brightening. Toshiro went first, tapping the knot on the tree's trunk before climbing out of the tunnel and waiting for Neko before they reentered the Forbidden Forest. There they faced each other, a bit awkwardly.

"I'm still curious about you," Neko said, one side of his mouth twisting up into a lopsided grin. "But I like you. You're a good interrogator."

Toshiro snorted softly. "Thank you, I suppose. Are you going to stay, now that you know Black's not a killer and isn't going to harm Potter?"

Neko's grin faded, and he lifted his gaze to look out at Hogwarts. "Maybe," he answered softly. "I don't know. I don't do much; people won't accept me, obviously. I do have somewhere to hide out for a while, so I'll probably stick around for a few weeks, at least." He was silent for a long time, just staring out at the castle, but then suddenly shook himself and looked down at Toshiro. "Well, whatever I do I'll be in touch with you, kid. Take care of yourself."

He clapped Toshiro on the shoulder and turned, disappearing into the forest before Toshiro could remind him that he wasn't a child.

* * *

Getting back into the castle turned out to be surprisingly easy. All Toshiro had to do was wait until daytime and simply walk inside once the doors opened. It seemed no one had noticed that he was gone, which he was surprised at but extremely thankful for. In fact, the only ones who greeted him abnormally were Ron, Harry, and Hermione.

The first thing that Toshiro noticed when he walked into the Great Hall that morning was the noise level. Instead of being several decibels above comfortable, all the students seemed to be talking softly, and as a result the noise was just a low murmur. He noticed that many students looked tired, almost falling asleep where they were sitting.

"What's wrong with everyone?" Toshiro asked, sitting beside Granger at the Gryffindor table. "Did someone die?"

Instead of an answer, Hermione threw her arms around his neck. "Hitsugaya!" she squealed, right into his ear. Toshiro winced and pried her arms from around his neck, taking a moment to glare at the students who'd looked at them. When they turned back to their own breakfasts he gave Hermione a questioning look.

"Why did you do that?"

The girl seemed put-off, and slumped slightly in her seat. "You weren't here last night, so we thought Black got you."

"Here?" Toshiro raised an eyebrow. "You mean in the common room?"

"We didn't sleep in the Tower, mate," Ron said, and Toshiro switched his gaze to him. "Black tore up the Fat Lady's portrait so Dumbledore sent everyone to sleep in the Great Hall for the night."

"Oh," Toshiro murmured, Black's comment about the Lady raising the alarm making much more sense now. Then a thought struck him and he looked up at the three, alarmed. "You didn't tell anyone I was gone, did you?"

He blew out a relieved breath when they shook their heads. "But we want an explanation. Hermione here was panicking."

"I was not!" She glanced at the Captain, her face reddening. "I wasn't."

"What are you wearing?" Harry was looking at him, and Toshiro looked down to see that he was still wearing Neko's cloak. In the morning light he could see that it was made of a thick brown material with a simple leather strap keeping it on. It was dirty and had several holes in it, but was comfortable.

Toshiro sighed and reached for a pitcher of tea and a thermos. "I'll tell you what I know."

* * *

It took the rest of the breakfast hour, but finally Toshiro had filled in the three about what had happened that night. At first they kept interrupting to ask questions so eventually he just told them to shut up and listen, and that he'd answer their questions at the end. When he revealed who Scabbers really was, however, Ron was unable to stay quiet.

"I've been sleeping with a man? But he's just a rat!" he exclaimed before the other three could shush him.

"He's not actually a man," Hermione tried to soothe him, but Toshiro shook his head.

"No, but he has the mind of one. Apparently an Animagus still has the mind of a human when they transform."

"That doesn't make it better! Besides, he's my pet, and I won't let you hurt him."

"If he is just a rat then I am not going to," Toshiro said calmly, but then Potter interrupted.

"Wait, so why doesn't Black want to kill me?"

Toshiro started to answer, but found he had to sit back. "I never actually asked," he shrugged, "but I assume because he never tried to kill Pettigrew in the first place he doesn't want to kill you now. I should probably ask him."

"You think?" Harry said incredulously.

"Back to Scabbers," Ron said, waving his hands sharply. "Are you sure? I mean, Black's a murderer; he's probably lying just so he can get close enough to us to kill Harry."

"He said he didn't kill them," Hermione spoke up, sounding unsure. Toshiro shook his head.

"He's likely lying. I agree with Weasley, and that's why I'm going to check out Scabbers, see if his reiatsu is like that of an Animagus. I haven't really paid much attention to him before – I thought he was going to die soon anyway."

Ron looked mildly offended, but asked what reiatsu was, which Toshiro then had to remind him was what Potter was developing. Which led him into his next thought.

"By the way, Potter, I'm going to ask Madam Pince to show me whatever books she has on meditation, so please try to keep practicing. I'm hoping you'll be able to do it without the extra research, but that's not likely."

"I don't see why you're bothering," the boy muttered. "It's not going to help, anyway."

"Yes, it will. You'll see once you're able to actually do it." Toshiro glanced up at the sun. "We should get inside. Classes will be starting soon."

As they walked back into the castle, Hermione kept pace beside him. "What about that metamorphmagus you saw?"

"What about him?"

"Is he dangerous?"

"Everyone is dangerous." With that, Toshiro lengthened his stride and walked down the stairs to the Potions classroom. While waiting for Snape to arrive the Trio told Hitsugaya about what they'd overheard the previous night between Dumbledore, Percy, and Snape himself. Hitsugaya was very intrigued about the possibility about someone in the castle trying to help Black get in.

"What were his exact words?" Toshiro asked, head down and pretending to read. They were in the back corner of the room in the hopes that no one would hear.

"Something about before the start of term and when he appointed. Dumbledore cut Snape off before he could say anything else."

Toshiro latched onto one term in particular. "Appointed? Are you sure?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, but–"

"Settle down, settle down!" Snape's voice suddenly cut through the chatter in the dungeon, and all the students quieted as the tall man swept through the aisles up to the front of the room. He turned to face them, his cloak snapping about his heels. "Now, I'm sure all of you want to discuss the previous night's excitement, but that is not going to happen. Not in this classroom." He fixed them all with a glare, even his Slytherins. "We are going to be making a Shrinking potion today." He flicked his wand and words appeared on the board. "Recipe is in the front or in your books, for those of you who cannot see the board." He shot a look at Hitsugaya, who narrowed his eyes in his own glare. "Get to work."

Amid the usual shuffle and rustling as students got their stations ready, Toshiro grumbled at the Professor.

After Transfiguration later that day, Professor McGonagall asked Harry to stay after class. Ron, Hermione, and Toshiro lingered, but the woman, after studying them for a minute, simply looked exasperated and turned back to the Boy Who Lived. Most likely she thought that Harry would just tell the others later what she said.

"This will come as a shock to you," McGonagall started, looking distinctly uncomfortable, "but we have reason to believe that Sirius Black is at Hogwarts looking for you."

"I know, Professor," Harry said wearily. "I heard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking about it. He works in the Ministry."

"Oh," McGonagall said, seeming to not know what to say. "Then I suppose you understand why you shouldn't be practicing Quidditch in the evenings?"

Before Harry even had a chance to protest, Ron was by his side arguing for him. "Professor, you can't ban him from playing! He's the Seeker! We _can't_ let Slytherin win!"

Even Hermione, who generally took no interest in Quidditch, felt she had to stand up for her friend. "He'll be at the pitch, Professor. _And_ on a broom. If something happens he can just fly away."

McGonagall gave Hermione a disbelieving look, as if wondering why she couldn't see the problem with what she had just suggested. Then she sighed and looked over at Toshiro, who was sitting on a nearby desk and watching the proceedings like it was a yet another fight in the eleventh division. "Do you have anything to contribute to this _private_ conversation, Mr. Hitsugaya?"

"No, Professor," Toshiro said with a small grin. "I believe those two have it covered."

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Well, then there is nothing I can do, other than tell you that Madam Hooch will be supervising your practices."

This, naturally, instigated another round of protests.

"We can take care of ourselves!" (Here Toshiro had to hold in an amused snort.)

"What if she leaks our secrets to the Slytherins?" (Contain eye roll.)

"Professor, I don't think they need a babysitter." (Cover a smirk by scratching his nose.)

As they continued to protest, McGonagall's lips got thinner and thinner until they were just a pale line in her face. At that point Toshiro decided to intervene before she turned them all into chairs.

"All right, I think that's enough," he said, drawing Potter back and stepping slightly in front of him. "Don't argue with the fully trained witch." He put out his arms and started herding the children away from the desk. "Good day, Professor." McGonagall blinked and nodded at him.

* * *

In the days leading up to the game, the weather quickly turned foul. It was dark and windy, and rain was constantly pouring down, soaking any poor students that had to dash across the grounds to the greenhouses. Care of Magical Creatures was given a classroom inside.

Toshiro absolutely loved it. Winter was finally coming, and he could go outside without having to mentally prepare himself for melting. He took advantage of the new weather, unsure if it would last or if it was just some freaky front that would soon blow through, and was outside as much as he could. Of course, the disadvantage to this was that if he came inside and saw a teacher they would immediately dry his clothes with a spell and give him a firm lecture. After the first time this happened he attempted to avoid the teachers, but they would always find him. Eventually he just learned the clothes drying spell himself.

His good mood, however, was ruined by a certain rat. The miserable creature had decided to disappear again, which sparked another argument between Ron and Hermione, the boy insisting that Granger's cat ate him, and the girl telling the red-head to be more careful with his pets. Weasley still didn't believe that his rat was a murderous Animagus, even when Hermione pointed out how long he'd been alive. Ron just shrugged and said living with a magical family must have affected him.

That Thursday Toshiro snuck out of the Tower at night, leaving his gigai behind, to meet with Black. He wasn't sure if the man would still be at the Shrieking Shack, but that was the only place he knew to find him, and he was curious to see how he would react to news of the missing pet.

Getting past the Whomping Willow was ridiculously easy – the tree didn't even have time to register his presence before he shunpoed up to its base and tapped the knot. Then he slipped inside the tunnel and lit his wand, hurrying forward.

Black was in the bedroom again, curled up on the bed asleep in his human form. He didn't notice Toshiro's presence until the Captain cleared his throat. Then the man scrambled to his feet, looking panicked, before spotting Toshiro. "What are you wearing?" he asked, looking him up and down.

Toshiro was in his uniform – minus his sword – but he wasn't about to tell him that. Instead he crossed his arms and adopted an offended look. "Clothes."

Black sighed and relaxed. "What do you want? Have you discovered Pettigrew yet?"

"That's what I came to talk to you about." Black started to look hopeful, but Toshiro held up a hand and his face fell. "The rat's missing. The leading theories on where it is are: eaten by Granger's cat, eaten by Filch's cat, died of old age, or my personal favorite: killed by the cooks and made into a stew." He held up a finger for each theory. "So far nothing's been validated, but I did think that stew tasted off…"

Black threw up his hands and started pacing, muttering about rats and children. Toshiro decided it was probably for the best he didn't hear clearly. Instead he wondered if he should tell the man about his conversation with Potter. Seeing his dejected expression, he gave in.

"I told Potter about meeting you."

That got his attention. Black spun around, his eyes lighting up. "You did? What did he say?"

"He was nervous. Everyone's been saying – well, the teachers have been saying that you came to Hogwarts looking for him. That you want to kill him."

"I don't!" Black exclaimed, looking desperate. "You told him that, right? I don't want to kill him! I love him! He's my–" The man cut himself off and looked away.

"He's your…" Toshiro prompted. The man looked like he was debating with himself, occasionally looking up at the Captain. When he spoke, his voice was so soft Toshiro wasn't sure if he heard correctly.

"My godson."

"Your godson?" Hitsugaya repeated incredulously, eyebrows raised. When the man nodded he inhaled sharply and shook his head. "Your godso… That's…not what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?"

"I don't – not _that_." Toshiro shook his head again, studying Black closely. He _seemed_ sincere. The Captain found himself believing the man. Against all his better judgement, he thought the escaped prisoner was telling the truth. His expression softened. "You should tell Potter yourself." Black's head snapped up, face hopeful. "I will not take you into the castle, at least not until I can see if Scabbers really is an Animagus. If he is…I will think about it. That is the most I can give you."

"Thank you." Black took Toshiro's hands in his own. "Thank you, thank you!"

Losing his fight against personal space, Toshiro quickly shook his hands and stepped back. He couldn't believe he was about to do this, but… "Do you–" He cleared his throat, uncomfortable. "Do you need me to…get you anything? Food, water…?"

Black grinned, showing off yellow, jagged teeth. "I would appreciate it."

"Right. I'll…sneak something off the tables."

"Just go get something from the house-elves."

"House-elves?"

Toshiro was worried to see Black's grin widen and a scheming look enter his eye. "Oh, I can tell you lots about Hogwarts that even Filch doesn't know," he said, voice mischievous.

 _What did I get myself into?_


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Oliver Wood was, as Toshiro found out, a very dedicated man when it came to Quidditch. Immediately after he found out that Gryffindor would not be playing against Slytherin at the upcoming game, he was constantly finding the members of his team and giving them not-so-welcome advice. His pestering was getting so annoying to the point that his own teammates were actively avoiding him, and would recruit others to distract the seventh year. Somehow Toshiro himself was roped into this one day.

It started perfectly normal: classes were easy, lunch was deafening, and homework was dreary. There were no Hollows, no Voldemort to kill, and nothing other than schoolwork to do. He had sent his report to Soul Society about all that he had learned, and was still waiting for a reply. As Toshiro sat in his windowsill with his history book propped up and making notes on another parchment, Wood came up to him.

"Have you seen Harry around?"

Thinking that the boy wasn't talking to him, Hitsugaya continued working, marking something about goblins on his parchment. Only when Wood cleared his throat did the Captain look up. "Yes?"

Wood looked like he was in a hurry. "Have you seen Harry?" he repeated.

A certain Potter had just entered the common room and stood petrified in the doorway, making frantic gestures at Toshiro. He returned his gaze to the waiting Wood. "No."

Harry clasped his hands together. "Thank you," he mouthed, then turned and ushered Ron back through the passage.

"Well, thanks anyway," an oblivious Wood said, and turned. Hitsugaya contained a smirk.

"Although, if you hurry you may be able to catch him on the stairs." Wood shot him a grateful look and hurried off. Toshiro shook his head and returned to work.

* * *

It seemed that Wood was successful in trapping Potter the next day, however, as the boy did not show up to Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Then again, it was probably for the best.

The class happened to be after lunch, so Hitsugaya made his way there early, intending to use the quiet time to finish a sixth-year book about charms. But when he entered the classroom and glanced at desk with the intention of giving a respectful nod to Professor Lupin, he blinked. Instead of the quiet, tired man sitting behind the desk, Professor Snape was perched there with a quill in hand, the tip flicking back and forth as he wrote. Sensing the presence of another in the room, the professor looked up.

"Class does not start for another fifteen minutes," he said, perpetual scowl in place. Hitsugaya shook himself out of his stupor.

"I know. I just came in early to read." He twitched the book in his hand. Snape briefly glanced down at it.

"Strange. No one ever comes early to my classes."

"It is not strange at all," Toshiro said, refusing to let his good mood from the stormy weather be ruined. "No one likes Potions class."

One side of Snape's mouth twitched. "Indeed."

Toshiro sat at his desk in the corner, but his curiosity led him to ask, "Where is Professor Lupin?"

Snape's quill gave a final flourish before he answered. "He is ill."

Hitsugaya's eyebrow raised. "Is he? Nothing serious, I hope."

"Not life-threatening."

With that, there was silence. At least until the bell rang for the end of lunch and students started to pour in, shooting worried looks up at the Potions Master sitting at the front of the room. Neville, when he entered, gulped loudly. When the bell rang again, Snape stood with a parchment in his hand. He swept the room with a sharp gaze.

"As should be obvious, I am substituting for Professor Lupin, who is ill at the moment. I will now take attendance."

Only two students were missing – Harry Potter and a black-haired girl who had come down with a bad case of the flu, which had manifested itself rather violently in the common room the previous night when the girl had suddenly leapt up and shoved a startled Hitsugaya off his windowsill to vomit down the Tower side. He was quite glad to relinquish his spot for the girl.

"As your substitute I looked through Professor Lupin's records of what he has taught and found them to be extremely lacking." His mouth twisted into a sneer. "It appears that he has covered a select few creatures, so I thought to continue that trend. This lesson will begin the unit on-"

Just then the door flew open and a harried Potter rushed in. "Sorry for being late, Professor Lu…" He trailed off, staring at Snape. "Where's Professor Lupin?"

"Ill. Ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."

But Harry did not sit down, and persisted in his line of questioning. "What's wrong with him?"

Snape's eyes glittered dangerously. "I do not see how that is any of your concern, Potter. Five points from Gryffindor, and it'll be fifty unless you sit down. Now."

Harry sat in the nearest empty seat, which happened to be next to Neville Longbottom, who cast a terrified look at Snape and inched his chair closer to Harry.

"Now then," Snape said, glaring at them, "turn to page 394. As I was saying, we will be covering werewolves."

The rest of the class, after a short-lived rebellion from several students, was spent taking notes from the textbook. Ron was assigned detention, Hermione was disgraced, points were taken, and two students were brought dangerously close to tears. The bell released them, sending grumbling students to exit the classroom. Toshiro noticed with amusement, however, that they only complained once they were out of earshot of Snape.

Saturday dawned dark and rainy, as per the norm the past week. Hitsugaya got up early, intent on spending some quality time out in the storm, and on his way out of the dormitory he passed Potter, already in his Seeker uniform, staring sullenly into the fire. Suppressing an eye-roll, Hitusgaya continued on his way. Once outside and far enough away from the castle that he couldn't be seen by mortal eyes, he stood with his head tilted back, enjoying the cold drops on his face.

He had just decided to head out into the Forbidden Forest to take advantage of the wet conditions when his soul phone rang. Muttering, he pulled it out and took a moment to compose himself when he saw the caller ID. Then he held it up to his ear and spoke rapidly in Japanese. **"Captain Hitsugaya."**

 **"Captain! It's good to hear your voice again!"**

 **_You did this._** Hitsugaya shivered, hearing Matsumoto's voice echo in his head. Firmly shoving the memories aside and locking them deep away, he answered his Vice-Captain wearily. **"What do you need, Matsumoto?"**

There was a brief pause. **"Is everything all right, Captain?"** She sounded concerned.

 _Damn._ Toshiro bit his lower lip. His Vice-Captain had always been able to read his emotions. **"Everything is fine. Why did you call?"**

For a moment he was worried that she would press the issue, but when she spoke again her voice was back to its usual bubbly self. **"I just wanted to warn you."**

 **"Warn me? What did you do now?"** He massaged his temple.

 **"Me? Nothing. Why would you think _I_ did anything?"**

He ignored her innocent tone and warned, **"Matsumoto…"**

 **"Fine, fine. Look, Kurotshuchi got his hands on your report about the dementors."** Toshiro sighed. He could see where this was going. Sure enough… **"Now he wants you to capture one for him to study."**

 **"My mission does not include capturing things for Captain Kurotshuchi to experiment on,"** Toshiro reminded her, but the woman wasn't done.

 **"Yes, and that's what I told him, but then he went to the Head-Captain and he agrees."**

Toshiro felt like banging his head against something. **"He does."**

 **"Yup. He said something about how we're learning so much from you just being there, but it'd be beneficial to have something living to investigate…also something about how there isn't currently much to go on regarding Voldemort. He said something else, but there was a fly crawling around on his beard and I got distracted."**

As amusing as that mental image was, Toshiro growled, **"What did he say?"**

 **"Oh, nothing about you. Just telling me to do my paperwork."** Her voice took on a distinctly sulky tone. **"Apparently he doesn't want to overload Captain Ukitake any more than he already is."**

The grass around Hitsugaya's feet started to freeze over. **"Don't tell me you've been getting Ukitake to do your work for you."** Silence. **"Matsumoto…"**

 **"Well you told me not to tell you."**

 **"Matsumoto!"** he cried, exasperated, but she cut him off before he could really start yelling.

 **"Anyway, I've got to go. Renji and the others are meeting at the Sixth, and I can't be late! Don't forget to get a dementor, and have fun! Bye!"** Click.

 **"Don't you hang up,"** Toshiro growled, but she was already gone. With a sigh he snapped the phone closed and stuffed it into his pocket. He tilted his face upwards again. **_Why do I keep her around?_**

* * *

His training session in the Forbidden Forest lasted longer than he had intended, but by the time he lowered his sword, he was covered in a fine layer of sweat and was breathing heavily. The clearing was covered in a thick layer of ice, jagged waves of frozen water and deep rents carved into the earth. Sheathing his sword, Toshiro walked through the icy wasteland, reminded of his inner world.

In the back of his mind he heard Hyourinmaru rumble. He flicked out a wing and sent snow hurtling into the air, only to come gently back down. Reluctant to leave the haven of ice and water, Toshiro sat down with his back against a wall of ice, letting his eyes drift shut.

Sometime later, he was first alerted to his punishment for lack of vigilance in the form of a click and a loud thump. He was on his feet in an instant, sword in hand and held ready. At first he could not see the source of the strange noises, so he cautiously made his way through the frozen clearing, darting from cover to cover. But then he saw it.

A giant spider, struggling to regain its footing on the slick ice. Its feet would slide out from under it, and its large belly would crash down. Then it would gather its legs under it and rise slowly, shakily, before starting the whole process over again. Toshiro watched it for some minutes, his sword held loosely by his side. The spider saw him, and its movements quickened, eager to reach what it must have seen as easy prey. Its pincers clacked, and its front two legs briefly rose up to intimidate him.

Hitsugaya raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. At last the spider got close enough to a hill of ice that it could hook its front legs around it and propel itself forward. This method seemed to work well for it, as soon the spider was before him, wedged precariously between two mounds of ice. Unfortunately for the creature, all eight limbs were occupied keeping it upright, and were therefore no use in fighting. After clacking angrily at him for a minute, it seemed to realize its predicament and attempted to shift its weight onto only six legs. The resulting crash as it fell to the ground shook the ice under Toshiro's feet.

Shaking his head, the Captain decided that enough was enough and darted up one of the ice-mounds, swiftly rising above the spider. Tracking his position, the spider slipped and slid. There was no way Toshiro was letting a _spider_ defeat him – on his own element, no less! – and calmly jumped onto the spider's back. It hissed, surprised, but then the sound rose to a strangled squeak when Toshiro made a neat incision just behind its head, severing vital cords and tendons. He spread his feet for balance as it fell limply to the ground, then leapt aside as its legs curled over its belly.

 _"Too easy,"_ Hyourinmaru complained. _"I didn't even get to do anything."_

Hitsugaya rubbed the sword soothingly and replaced it into its sheath, then looked up at the sky. The sun, nearly hidden behind clouds, was nearing its zenith, and he still needed to catch a dementor. The thought struck him that he had no idea _how_ to catch a dementor. He sighed, and released his hold on the ice, letting it dissolve. To the library it was, then. He still had yet to find a solution for Potter's lack of ability to meditate, and thought despairingly that he would have to comb through the entire collection before finding an answer. Thank goodness he was a fast reader.

Several minutes and shunpoes later, Toshiro was in the Gryffindor Tower climbing back into his gigai – just in time, as it turned out, as Ron burst through the doors just as he settled into place.

"Come quick!" he said, pulling back Hitsugaya's curtains. The Captain glared up at him.

"In the future, ask before doing that. And I will not go anywhere with you unless you tell me where, first."

The red-head rolled his eyes and grabbed his wrist, intending on pulling him off the bed. Toshiro remained firmly on the bed, and Ron gave up, puffing. "What do you weigh, a ton?"

"Out with it."

"Fine." Ron stood a bit straighter and motioned urgently at the door. "Harry got hurt during the game. You healed him last time; do it again."

"I will not!" Toshiro held up a hand, stopping Ron before he could even begin to protest. "That is a terrible idea. The last time I healed Potter he developed spiritual powers. I shudder to think what would come of it if I healed him again. No, I will _never_ heal any wizard."

"What if we're dying?" Ron asked, growing angry. Hitsugaya's answer didn't seem to please him.

"Then you die."

"We're your friends!" Ron burst out, gripping the bedpost so tightly that his knuckles were white. "This is how you repay us? Maybe the stories about your kind _are_ true!"

Toshiro sighed. There was no way he could explain, in terms the child could understand, that he was already in enough trouble for sparking Potter's powers, and if it happened again the consequences would be…severe. The witch or wizard would be killed, he would be stripped of his rank and would likely have a seal placed on his soul, his Division would be shamed for centuries, and it would lose a Captain for the second time in four decades. Not to mention that he would be interfering in the mortals' lives.

A Shinigami, while they protected souls from being damaged or destroyed, was told not to change the lives of the living humans. The only reason he was being allowed to hunt down and eliminate Voldemort was because, from what they had learned since his placement in the school, the wizard had done something unnatural to his soul that allowed him to survive as a sort of wraith after the killing curse rebounded. Soul Society wanted to, one: find out what he had done and punish him, and two: make sure that he did not teach anyone else what he had done. Humans had souls for a reason; one man did not have the right to mutilate his in order to gain immortality.

"There are reasons why I cannot and will not heal any witch or wizard," Toshiro said calmly, standing. "They are long and complicated, and would require a lengthy explanation of my home's laws, and I do not have the patience or the inclination necessary to tell them to you. Satisfy yourself with the knowledge that I do not do withhold my skills out of spite, or condescension, or whatever else you may think. I am simply not allowed to."

Weasley looked unsatisfied with this response, but it was all that he was going to get.

"Now, what happened to Potter this time?"

Ron explained, in a tone sharper than normal, how dementors had appeared during the game and Harry had fallen off his broom. Before he could hit the ground, however, Dumbledore had said some spell that slowed him down, and he hit the ground with all the speed of a drifting feather. Still, he'd been unconscious when the teachers had hurried him inside.

Apparently this was the talk of the school, as the closer the two got to the healing wing, the more crowded the halls got, packed shoulder-to-shoulder with soaking wet students. Ron and Hitsugaya managed to elbow their way to the front, only to find that Professor McGonagall was standing guard by the door, saying that no one could get in.

"But we're his friends!" Ron protested, and the Animagus raised an eyebrow in Toshiro's direction. The Captain shrugged and the woman turned her impressive gaze back to Ron.

"He is still being treated," she said firmly, arms crossed. "Only staff and relatives allowed inside for now."

"But he doesn't have any relatives!"

"Then only staff are allowed inside."

Ron continued to argue with the witch, despite the fact that she was his teacher and arguing with one's teacher was never a good course of action, no matter who one happened to be. Toshiro stood by the side, watching as the red-headed boy attempted to talk his way past the teacher – with no success. No matter what he did, McGonagall would not budge. Finally Hitsugaya got fed up with the boy and decided to end this.

"Give it up," he groaned, loudly enough that the two would hear him. "Weasley, she is not going to let you in. If she did, then she would have to let the whole school in, and that is obviously not going to happen. We will hear later how Potter fares, as I am sure it will be the talk of the school."

Ron grimaced, but folded his arms and stayed put. Hitsugaya rolled his eyes and turned away, shouldering his way through the crowd. At first none wanted to move out of his way, but a little dose of spiritual energy went a long way.

Soon he was out of the crowded hallway, and paused to take a deep breath. He had never liked crowds, and being a Captain had not helped that feeling. His rank came with the lovely benefit that he was considered a highly-desired target. Therefore, whenever he was around other people, there was always a part of his mind that was subconsciously scanning the crowd, picking out anyone that seemed like they would be a threat. Conversely, the people who _didn't_ seem like a threat were often the ones who actually succeeded in their mission, so he had to keep an eye out for them, too.

Taking a right to head down a deserted hallway, Toshiro wondered absently if that was considered prejudiced. Probably.

Before he could delve too deeply into whether or not his habit of judging people was morally wrong (he was erring on the side of _no_ , since his opinions had saved his life several times), he turned another corner and almost ran headlong into a group of soggy, downcast students in dripping maroon-and-gold robes. He took a step back and eyed the grim Gryffindor Quidditch team.

He was going to ask whether or not they won (more to fill the awkward silence than anything else), but immediately realized that his question was pointless. Even given the information that Potter had been injured and was currently lying possibly unconscious in the hospital wing, if the team had won they would have a certain spark in their eyes. This spark was absent, particularly so in the Keeper and Captain of the team, seventh year Oliver Wood. The boy's expression was dark as he stared down at the bundle in his arms.

"What happened?" Toshiro asked, genuinely curious. Surely they wouldn't act this way solely because Potter had been injured. It wasn't as if the boy hadn't been hurt before – this was practically an everyday occurrence. After all, he had even managed to slice his hand open during Potions class while cutting some slugs.

An uncomfortably long silence filled the air, and Toshiro was beginning to think he would never receive an answer to his question when one of the Weasley twins spoke. "Harry's hurt."

"And his broom was destroyed by the Whomping Willow," his brother finished.

"Oh," Hitsugaya said softly, gazing at the misshapen bundle in Wood's arms. Now that he was looking, he could see what was most likely the thin twigs on one side of the bundle with the handle next to it. The whole thing was covered in a cloth, preventing him from seeing more, but what he could see was enough to tell that the broom was broken at least in half. "Can you not repair it?"

The twin on the left shook his head, damp red hair falling into his eyes. "It's a magic broom," he replied, as if that explained everything. Hitsugaya opened his mouth to tell him that more explanation was, in fact, necessary, when Wood suddenly started forward again and he was forced to jump aside or be trampled. The rest of the team started, staring after their Keeper for a moment before following. A twin paused beside Toshiro.

"Don't mind him," he said, voice uncharacteristically soft. "He's taking it hard. Blames himself for Harry's accident."

"Why did the dementors go onto the field?" Toshiro asked. The twin shook his head.

"No one knows. But I reckon Dumbledore's not about to let it happen again." With that he jogged to catch up to his brother and fell into pace with the group. Toshiro watched them turn the corner, then quickly strode to it and looked around to see the crowd around the hospital wing doors part to let the solemn team through. McGonagall said something to them, too soft for the Captain to hear, then stepped aside and let them enter. The crowd closed up behind them like the jaws of a great beast, and he saw no more.

* * *

Unlike Harry's stint in the hospital wing last year, this one only lasted the weekend. Come Monday he returned to class, looking unhappy but physically well. From what Toshiro heard from disjointed snatches of conversation he happened to hear at mealtimes, the boy had a constant stream of visitors. Hermione and Ron, apparently, were nigh inseparable from his bedside. Toshiro himself only visited once, the hospital wing with its sterile smell and white walls reminding him eerily of Squad 4, but the time was enough to give him something to think about.

Apparently, during the game just before the dementors had shown up and caused Harry to lose consciousness, the boy saw a Grim. From his description of it – which took an irritatingly long time to drag out of him – Toshiro was fairly certain that the "Grim" was no more than Sirius Black in his Animagus form. This led the Captain to wonder what he was doing there, and so decided to pay him a visit.

"Thank you," Toshiro said, and bowed to the house-elf that had given him the bread and dried meat. "It is much appreciated."

The house-elves twittered, clearly pleased to be thanked. As he tried to leave they kept offering him more and more food, and by the time he finally managed to escape out the door, his arms were full of so much sweets that even Ukitake would be jealous.

As Toshiro hurried through the halls and attempted to rearrange the food without it cascading down out of his arms, he wondered why it was that the house-elves were so happy to serve people. It wasn't as if they were starved for interaction – there were dozens down in the kitchens. And they were constantly kept busy preparing the next meal or cleaning the castle at night. Yet, from what they cheerfully informed him, they seemed to _enjoy_ it.

(He did wonder, slightly concerned, why they hadn't received better clothing. Surely Dumbledore was not so cruel as to force them to wear pillowcases with cut-outs for their limbs and torsos and bedsheets wrapped around their bodies like ancient togas. Some of their clothes looked like they had been patched so many times the original fabric was nothing more than a thin strip across the shoulders.)

These thoughts were dashed from his mind as he hurried outside into the drizzling rain and shunpoed to the trunk of the Whomping Willow, kicking the knot before the tree could even register his presence and attempt to smack his intestines into his ribcage. The tree, fortunately, was in a sheltered area of the grounds where no one would easily see him, and besides, no one would be outside in this weather.

Soon he entered the familiar basement of the Shrieking Shack and swiftly climbed the stairs, balancing the food precariously in his arms. "Black! It's Hitusgaya!" he called, wanting to give the man some warning before he burst into what was the closest thing he had for a home.

"I'm in the bedroom!" Black's muffled voice replied. Toshiro immediately diverted his steps to head up the stairs.

"I realize that none of this is healthy, but I couldn't get away fast enough before they forced it on me." Toshiro spoke quickly as he entered the bedroom. He strode across the room to place the wrapped goods on the couch. Black stood from the bed and descended eagerly on the food. Toshiro sat on a chair and waited for the man to finish eating before questioning him.

Already, after just a short while of bringing regular food to him, Black was starting to fill out. His face wasn't so gaunt, his skin wasn't an unhealthy shade of yellow, and he no longer was reminiscent of a thestral. His teeth, unfortunately, hadn't improved much, but one of the first things Toshiro had brought him was a toothbrush, toothpaste, and mouthwash. At least his breath was usually minty fresh.

When Black stopped inhaling the food, he turned to Toshiro. "Thank you," he mumbled, though with his mouth full it sounded more like "Taff ouu."

"You are welcome," Toshiro replied. It still surprised him a little when Black got a ravenous look in his eyes when he saw food. "I would like to ask you a few questions, however."

Black sank down to sit on the couch and waved one hand for the Shinigami to continue.

"Why did you go to the Quidditch game yesterday?"

Black looked up, mild surprise flickering in his dark eyes. "You saw me?"

"No." Hitsugaya shook his head. "Potter did. He thought you were the Grim."

His mouth once again full of food, Black snorted a laugh. He swallowed painfully and chuckled, "Really? James said the same thing, when he first saw my Animagus form."

While that was all fine and dandy, it was also unfortunately off-topic. Toshiro leaned forward. "Why were you at the match?"

Having now satiated his immediate hunger, Black had slowed down and was tearing off chunks of bread before eating them. "I wanted to see Harry play," he said simply. A wistful expression crossed his face. "He plays just like his father."

"Fine, but how did you know that Potter was going to play?"

Black shrugged. "I didn't. I just like watching Quidditch."

Well, that was one mystery solved. Toshiro stood. "Thank you for your time," he said, and turned to leave. A hand on his arm stopped him, and he turned to see Black standing beside him, food forgotten.

"Wait! Have you had any luck with Pettigrew yet?"

Toshiro shook his head and pulled his arm out of Black's grasp. "No. Unfortunately, the rat is still missing."

Black sighed. "I hope he hasn't gotten himself eaten. I want to kill him myself."

Toshiro studied the man for a moment. "You do realize," he said slowly, "that if you kill him you can never prove yourself innocent?" Surprised dark eyes met his own calm turquoise ones. Toshiro held his gaze calmly. "Think about it," he continued softly, and slipped away. For a long time after he left, Black simply stared off into space, turning over the boy's words in his head.

* * *

The storm that had blown for the past week was still going strong. A sharp, stinging rain was pelting against the earth in a rhythmic thud that took on deeper tunes the longer he listened. Flickering weakly in the center of the cave, a small fire breathed its last before dying. The man grumbled, but made no move to restart it. In this weather, it would be impossible to find wood dry enough to light, and what little magic he had was not enough to burn wet wood.

His thoughts drifted to the people he had met not long before: an escaped prisoner who was chasing the man who had caused him to be wrongly imprisoned, and a white-haired boy, whom he was very curious about but knew he would not get the answers he desired. The corners of his mouth twitched up as he thought about the boy. He had given him a name: Neko. It was not his true name, but it would do.

A soft squeak drew his attention, and he looked towards the mouth of the cave to see a small rat sulk inside, nose twitching about. Its beady eyes were fixed on the huddled man on the opposite side of the cave. Neko watched as it took a cautious step forward, then another, and another, making its way slowly to the center of the cave where the fire had been. It cast another suspicious glance at Neko before curling up near the slight warmth of the embers.

Shifting to pull his cloak tighter around himself, the man realized belatedly that he had given his cloak to Hitsugaya, and never remembered to ask for it back. He regretted that now, though he hoped it served the boy well.

His eyes fixed on the rat. There was something about it that stirred a memory inside his mind…but he could not remember. Perhaps in the morning, when what little warmth of the sun made its way down through the dark clouds and warmed him, would he remember. For the meantime, he did not mind sharing his cave with the little creature. Its fur grew in clumps, what little was left was matted, and he could see ribs under its skin, which slid over them as the creature breathed.

He would offer to share his body heat with the rat, but again something was warning him not to get too close to it. _Odd,_ he thought drowsily. _I normally like animals._ He tucked his legs closer into his body and shifted so that he wasn't leaning against his wings. _The ones that aren't afraid of me, anyway._

And so the night passed until the world outside the cave grew gradually brighter as the sun rose above the storm clouds. Neko drifted off to sleep some hours before dawn, and when he woke, stiff and aching from sleeping huddled up against the wall, the rat was gone and the fire was as cold as the stone beneath it. The storm, however, continued unabated.

* * *

 **Okay, here comes the hard part... I would like to ask a favor of you. I hate bothering people like this, but I have been trying to find a story on this site for a while now, and while it is not life-or-death important, it has been distracting me to the point of constant irritation. It has even caused me to stop writing, it is so annoying. I'm sorry that I can't give you a better description of the story, but it's been a while since I read it. Anyway, here's a brief summary of it:**

 **It is in the _Lord of the Rings_ section. It takes place in Helms Deep. Instead of Haldir and the Lórien army, a captain and army from Mirkwood arrive to fight. The story focuses mainly on Legolas and that captain (it is _not_ a Legomance, by the way), and Aragorn, I believe. I _think_ the captain gives Legolas a letter from Thranduil, but I'm not sure. I think it has more than one chapter and should be several thousand words long.**

 **I realize that this is probably the wrong fandom to ask, but I haven't started posting my _Lord of the Rings_ story yet and therefore this is the only place to put this request. If you know of a story like this, please let me know. I don't ask that you waste hours searching for it, but if you would keep an eye out for it I would really appreciate it. Thank you in advance.**


	14. Chapter 14

**I would like to thank everyone who helped with the LoTR thing. I hate using this for something like that, but I thank everyone anyway.**

 **This chapter gets...weird. I'm trying not to throw everything in all at once, and so this chapter probably only makes sense to me, who knows where I'm going with it. In any case, all will be revealed with time, and in the meantime, enjoy the story!**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Even sleeping beside the meager warmth of the embers the previous night had not been enough to warm the rat. He shivered, the wind whipping about its small form. He had lost most of his fur, and without a nice, thick pelt he had no protection against the elements. Not for the last time he thought about going back, but forced himself to keep going. He had to keep going. Not even the warmth and food he would get with the boy was enough to tempt him. No, his master's anger was a much, much better incentive.

A bird cawed somewhere overhead, and the rat dove into hiding beneath a bush, tentatively poking a nose out to smell the surrounding forest. He didn't think the predator was after him…perhaps it was best to wait here for a while. The miserable rat curled up into a tiny ball, shivering.

His master may have been the reason he was out here in this cold, wet forest, but he would much rather be back at the school, safe and warm and dry. His resolve wavered as he thought of the delicious food and soft covers of the bed.

Perhaps…perhaps his master wouldn't be _too_ mad if he delayed returning to him. Surely he would understand.

Resolve thoroughly broken, the rat darted out from underneath the bush and started to make his way back to the castle.

* * *

The Monday that Harry returned to class was…entertaining, to say the least. The day started off normally, if a bit slow. Hitsugaya was down early in the Great Hall as usual, reading a book he'd borrowed from the library talking about meditation. It was the most helpful book he had found so far, and he was hoping it would get more into detail about how to help someone who had trouble clearing his mind. He was only a couple chapters in, however, and it was just going over the basics so far.

When the Trio slid into seats next to them, Hitsugaya glanced up as he discovered that they were talking about a Grim during the game. "It was just Black," he said calmly. They turned to stare in his direction with wide eyes.

"'Just' Black, he says!" Ron exclaimed loudly. Hermione and Harry shushed him, and the red-head had enough sense to wait until the students around them had gone back to their meals before continuing. "How do you know?"

"I talked to him." Toshiro took a sip of tea and brushed some crumbs off the book in his lap. He ignored their astonished expressions. "He wants to talk to you, Potter."

"Me?" Harry gestured to himself, gloomy expression being replaced by a skeptical one.

"Yes, you. You are–" Toshiro cut himself off. Perhaps it was best that Black was the one to tell the boy what their relation is. He lowered his voice so that they had to lean in to hear. "I told him that I would not take him into the castle until I figured out whether or not he was telling the truth about Pettigrew. Of course, I could take you to see him, if you wish."

"No, that's fine." Harry paused. "But why is he so interested in me? Why not Ron or Hermione?"

"Likely he doesn't know about them. I am…unsure of the circumstances regarding you." Well, a half-truth was better than an all-out lie. "He has not…" A movement from across the room caught his eye, and he glanced up. "What is Malfoy doing?" The three swiveled around to look at the Slytherin table.

Draco Malfoy, his platinum-blond hair gleaming with oil, was standing next to the bench, waving his arms around and dramatically falling to the floor only to spring up and throw his shoulders back, arms hanging loosely by his sides, eyes closed and tongue lolling out the side of his mouth like a dog drooling over a bowl of food. His arm was free of bandages, the skin paler than normal. The Slytherins around him laughed, then glanced over their shoulders. Toshiro followed their gazes to see that they were looking at Harry.

 _Oh, they are making fun of Potter again,_ he thought. _But_ what _is he doing?_

Malfoy flipped the hood of his cloak up onto his head and held up his hands, fluttering his fingers. Toshiro watched, head tilted to one side, trying to make sense of his movements. He wasn't having much success before Hermione sucked in a breath and grabbed Harry's shoulder, turning him away from the sight. "He's just mocking you," she said tightly.

"Not very effectively," Toshiro said, still watching the boy. "He…looks like he is trying to expel waste."

Indeed, Malfoy was squatting down, face scrunched up in concentration. The Trio turned identical looks on the Shinigami.

"Expel waste?" Ron questioned. "What are you, five?"

Toshiro scowled and lightly touched the red-head's shin with his foot. He yelped and scooted as far away as he could get, rubbing his slightly-frozen limb. Hermione punched Toshiro lightly on the arm, then completely ignored his indignant glare.

The bell tolled, sending the students scrambling out of the Hall in the usual mad rush to their first class; a pile-up was created by the doors, and it took several minutes of shoving and angry grumbling for a large knot to force itself through. From there Toshiro and the Trio made their way to their first class, which happened to be Potions down in the dungeons. As usual, the frigid air greeted them as they hurried down the stone steps. Toshiro took a deep breath of the stuff, relishing in his temporary freedom before he was subjected to the torture of being stuck in a confined space with a salty professor and two dozen neurotic teenagers.

As it turned out, however, Potions class ended up being highly amusing. Snape set them the task of making a complicated potion that required the use of sliced crocodile hearts. (Hitsugaya supposed that he found this task a little too enjoyable, if the alarmed looks he was getting while meticulously cutting up the bloody muscle were anything to go by. What could he say? He appreciated the chance to wield a knife in class, even if he wasn't allowed to stab anyone with it.)

Still, the real entertainment came after enduring a brutally long half-hour of Malfoy's rendition of a dementor. Toshiro, having plopped all his ingredients into his cauldron and left it to simmer for ten minutes, wandered over to a sink to wash the blood off his hands. He was distracted, watching the pinkish water swirl around the drain, when he heard someone make an odd, irritated grunt, and turned just in time to see Ron lift a crocodile heart in one stained hand, take careful aim, and fling it into Malfoy's face. The stunned silence that followed was clear enough that Hitsugaya could hear the wet squish of the heart as it slid down the boy's face and slap onto the counter. A glistening red streak ran down the front of Malfoy's face like a tire-track.

Hitsugaya's only complaint was that Ron hadn't thrown the rather sharp projectile in his other hand. He would be only too happy to give the boy lessons in throwing knives.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor" was Snape's only response to the incident. Judging by the carefully neutral expression on his face, Toshiro suspected the man found it just as amusing as the rest of the students, who had begun to giggle quietly.

The rest of that class passed peacefully. Well, as peacefully as it could be with one boy silently promising a bloody, gruesome death unto another. Meanwhile, Ron had to ask Snape for a new crocodile heart, which the professor gave to him silently.

Ron's surprising survival of that day's Potions class gave him new confidence, and he boldly strode into Defense Against the Dark Arts, where he proudly told the story to anyone that would listen. Professor Lupin was back in class that day, a fact that his students were in a hurry to take advantage of.

" _Two_ rolls!"

"He wouldn't listen!"

"…really behind…"

Lupin calmly answered these complaints, looking much wearier and grayer than he had only a few days ago. There were pronounced shadows under his eyes, and Toshiro noted with some concern that his writing on the blackboard was unsteady due to a fine tremble in his hands. When he asserted that they did not have to do the essay on werewolves, Toshiro suspected that his generosity had less to do with sympathy and more to do with the fact that all he probably wanted to do was go lie down in a quiet corner and take a nap.

The lesson, despite Toshiro's inherent hatred of schools and anything to do with them, was actually quite enjoyable. Lupin had brought in a large, see-through tank that contained a hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who only stood about three feet in height and seemed like it was composed of smoke. Its body was thick and ugly; one stocky leg supported its upper body, which appeared rather bulbous and had two long arms extending from either side. In one hand it carried a lantern – it looked old and rusted, although still in working order – that did not appear as if it were made by a creature unable to work metal.

"Lures travelers into bogs," Lupin said, watching the creature hop awkwardly around the tank. (Toshiro had a sudden suspicion of just where it got the lantern.) "Lethal if you get too close. See the lantern in its hand? It can shoot fireballs if it–"

As if to demonstrate his point, a sudden flash of light emanated from the tank, causing the nearest students to cover their eyes. Everything in the tank was obscured by a cloud of smoke for several seconds before Lupin, looking as if he'd done this several times before, waved his wand and it dissipated. The creature wafted back into view, glaring around at them. It seemed to lock onto Toshiro, and drew one thick finger across what he assumed was its neck. It was a universal gesture, and he understood it perfectly: _You die now._

As a Captain, Toshiro felt it was his duty to take the challenge seriously and respond in kind. He narrowed his eyes at the creature and held up his hands, flicking his fingers inwards twice: _Come at me._

"They aren't generally dangerous unless you get too close," Lupin continued, amusement coloring his voice as the hinkypunk and the white-haired Shinigami stared each other down. "Just don't follow its light and you should be fine if you ever encounter one."

When the bell rang at the end of class, Toshiro picked up his things and approached the tank, to the creature's obvious delight. It pressed up against the glass, priming its lantern for another fireball. "We will meet again," Toshiro said, voice low. "Be ready." The hinkypunk squelched.

"I look forward to seeing that," Lupin said suddenly, smiling. "But if you'll excuse me, I need a word with Harry."

"Of course, Professor." Toshiro bowed to him and walked out, throwing a glare over his shoulder at the hinkypunk. He was unsure why it had chosen to bestow the dubious honor on him of being its hated enemy, but he was determined to live up to its expectations. It shook its lantern menacingly.

* * *

Later that day at lunch, Harry was excitedly telling the others about Lupin's promise to give him anti-dementor lessons. He was so anxious that he barely ate, picking up his fork and putting it down without any real thought. "I won't hear it anymore!" he said, grinning. What 'it' was, Toshiro had no idea, although he was intrigued about the thought of being able to fend off the dementors.

 _"Master."_

 _"Yes?"_ Toshiro flipped a page in his book and paused, running his thumb over the sharp edge of the corner.

 _"Use Bakudou."_

Toshiro slowly lifted his head, staring sullenly off into space. He snapped the book closed, startling those around him. Then, very slowly, he pushed his plate away from him and crossed his arms on the table, resting his forehead on them. _Idiot, idiot, idiot…_

Hushed whispers hissed above him, and eventually he felt a hesitant hand on his back. "H-Hitsugaya?" he heard Hermione ask. "Are you all right?"

"I'm an idiot," he moaned. The hand was removed, and no one spoke to him for the remainder of the meal. Hyourinmaru was chuckling softly in the back of his mind.

That night, he left his gigai and jumped out the window, still kicking himself for not having thought of this before. The stars were covered by a thick layer of clouds, and a fine drizzle of rain was coming down, just enough that he had to keep clearing his eyes. But still, the night was nice and cold, although he would have liked it if the rain was pouring down in torrents, perhaps with a strong wind to lash it against the windows. That would be nice.

After Dumbledore's recent anger at the dementors for coming onto the school grounds, the dementors had been keeping a further distance from the castle than before. As a result, Toshiro had to spend several minutes shunpoing out. When he finally determined that he had gone far enough away from the castle to meet one of the creatures, he set out on a wide loop around the school. It wasn't long before he saw a dementor, ragged cloak snapping about its nonexistent feet in a nonexistent wind. The creature must have sensed him, as it turned and started making its way over. He stopped and held up a hand, preparing a binding spell.

Soon, before it was in range, he felt a cold chill go down his spine. Alarmed, he turned but nothing was behind him. When he turned back, the dementor was still making its way towards him, torturously slow. Finally, _finally_ , it moved into range, and he pointed at it. "Way of Binding No. 4: Crawling Rope!" A glowing yellow rope spun around the dementor, pinning its arms to its sides. It let out an odd, wheezing sound that made Toshiro want to give it a cough drop. "Good," Toshiro muttered, and reached into his pocket.

The rope snapped.

The dementor lunged forward, and he leapt out of range, raising his hand again. "Way of Binding No. 9: Strike!" Glowing with a red light, the creature froze in mid-lunge. Hitsugaya eyed it warily as he again went for his soul phone. He managed to flip it open before the dementor again broke free and snarled.

"Way of Binding No. 30: Beak-Piercing Triple Beam!"

 _Snap!_

"Oh sh…"

* * *

Toshiro sighed and leaned his forehead against the tiled wall of the shower, letting the warm water run over him. _That was a colossal mess,_ he thought.

Hyourinmaru, on the other hand, was rumbling happily. The dragon had gotten a large kick out seeing Toshiro, normally so unflappable and calm, running around firing off Kidos at a creature who inevitably shook them off. Eventually the Captain had retreated and made a report back to Soul Society. Kurotshuchi seemed ecstatic about something that could resist Captain-level binding with seemingly no effort. Hitsugaya, however, was less than pleased. Now he would have to find some other way to capture a dementor. Lovely. Just lovely.

When Toshiro reentered the dorms, yawning, he found that there was only an hour or so until dawn. He debated trying to catch whatever rest he could, before giving up and lying down on his bed to read. The book was still not giving a good description on how to clear one's mind, which he found irritating. Wasn't that the whole point to meditation – clearing your mind? He was ready to chuck it across the room.

Instead, he set it roughly on his side table and closed his eyes, slipping into his inner world. When he blinked open his eyes he found that he was on a field of ice, as usual. Except he did not see Hyourinmaru. Assuming the dragon was just off somewhere mocking him, Toshiro settled down to wait. Several minutes went by. He twisted around, wondering if the zanpakuto was sneaking up behind him. No. Nothing there except for snow.

"Hyourinmaru?" he called. His voice faded into the air. "This isn't funny."

Still nothing. Not even a rumble of recognition.

Starting to get a little concerned, Hitsugaya stood and set off in a random direction. The field of ice seemed endless, the features the same. Something was…off. He stopped and looked around. Even under a more careful scrutiny, the pale blue sky seemed the same, as did the snow and ice that stretched off in every direction. The horizon was flat and featureless, and had no…mountains. Toshiro spun around. Where were the mountains?

"Hyourinmaru!" Nothing. Just his own voice deadening against the soft snow. "Where are you?"

As he turned he was suddenly struck by a harsh wind blowing directly into his face. Toshiro held up one arm to protect his eyes and took a deep breath in an effort to calm down. The wind persisted, and with a jolt he realized that he couldn't control it. He looked up, intent on forming clouds, but none appeared. His heart kicked painfully against his ribs, as if demanding that it be let out. He couldn't control his own inner world. Hyourinmaru was gone.

The wind shrilled intensely, picking up snow and hurtling it into him. He put his back to the wind and braced his feet, but the wind pushed him forward, skidding on the ice below. This was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, nothing liked he'd ever even _heard_ about. His inner world seemed to be turning against him with a mind of its own. Was that even possible? Then a thought that stole his breath away shot through his mind even as he leaned into the wind to find his balance.

 _Am I losing Hyourinmaru?_

The sky was still blue, but the world around him seemed to lose all color. Snow circulated on the furious wind, blotting out all sights and deafening all sounds. Hitsugaya snarled, baring his teeth. No. He would not let this happen. He would _not_ go down without a fight.

Pushing out his reiatsu in one large, forceful shove, he created a bubble around him where the wind and the snow couldn't touch him. It still battered against the sides, howling with fury upon not being able to reach him, but he was able to stand still and strong. "What is this?" he roared, his own fury whipping the snow about his feet. "Why now? Why are you doing this?"

Amazingly, the wind seemed to respond. Its intensity suddenly decreased several levels, and now circled his bubble while making a low keening sound instead of piercing shrieks. Toshiro glared around at it. "This is _my_ world," he growled. "I demand answers."

 _…me…_

"What?" Toshiro tilted his head, straining to hear. He could have sworn he heard something, in between the wind and the thumping snow.

 _Listen…_

"Who are you?" It sounded like a voice, a female voice. It sounded almost familiar, as if he had heard it before. But that was ridiculous. He would remember something like this. Whatever it was, it was not friendly, of that he was certain. Why else would it seize control of his inner world, _his_ world, if not to harm him? His lip curled. "Get out."

The wind rose briefly before settling. The voice came again, and this time he could hear frustration in it. _Listen to me!_

"I will not listen," he answered, shoving out his reiatsu again and extending his barrier. "This is my world. You do not belong here. _Get out_."

The wind pushed fleetingly back against his barrier. Above it, the voice spoke again, and if it had been anything else that wasn't trying to take control of his inner world, Toshiro would have thought it sounded almost like it was longing for him to understand. _No…_

"Yes! Heed me!" He drew himself up, eyes flickering silver. "If you do not leave now, I will force you out! Leave. _Now_!"

Moaning, the wind circled his bubble. _My Prince…_

Toshiro stiffened. But before he could do anything, a terrifying roar split the sky, and the world seemed to crumble around him. He stumbled at the sensation, his bubble shattering, and fell to his knees.

"Master!" A wall of ice surrounded him, blotting out the sun. "Are you hurt? Master!"

"I'm fine, Hyourinmaru. Thank you." He struggled to his feet, putting a hand out to steady himself against the dragon, who was attempting to look him over for injuries and snarl at their surroundings at the same time. "How are you? I couldn't find you."

"I am well." Hyourinmaru lowered his head to sniff at Toshiro before seemingly satisfying himself that the Shinigami was well and returning to scan the field of ice around them.

"What happened? What was that?"

"I do not know." Hyourinmaru said this reluctantly. "I could sense that you had entered, but I could not reach you. You were here, and yet you were somewhere else. Something was blocking me from getting to you."

"Some _one_ ," Toshiro corrected softly.

"Hm?" The dragon turned one crimson eye down.

"Someone. I've heard her before."

"Her."

Toshiro nodded. "On the train, and…when I met Black. And now…" He trailed off, and turned to climb up out of Hyourinmaru's protective circle. The dragon grumbled and shifted to gently push him back in. He decided to let the dragon decide when it was safe, though it went against everything in him to let someone else defend him. "Each time she said 'prince'. I think she was calling me that."

"You are not of royal blood."

"I know."

"Hitsugaya. Hitsugaya!"

Both dragon and Shinigami tensed, the dragon slapping his tail threateningly against the ice and Toshiro preparing a Kido. Then they relaxed. "It's just Potter," Toshiro said, and set a hand on Hyourinmaru's cold scales. "I'd better go see what he wants." The zanpakuto grumbled but did nothing to stop him from exiting their inner world. Toshiro opened his eyes to see Potter's face inches from his own. In the next instant, Potter was half-lying on his bed, face pressed against the mattress with Toshiro pinning him down. Harry struggled for a moment before going limp.

"Lemme go," he mumbled into the sheets. Toshiro complied, and the boy scrambled away from his bed, shivering.

"Don't do that," both males said at the same time, then glared at each other. Toshiro's was much more fearsome.

"What was that for?" Harry complained, rubbing his arms and shivering.

"You caught me at a bad time," Toshiro replied simply. "I do not react well to people so close to me after being attacked."

"Attacked?" Harry peered down at him. "You were sleeping."

"I was in my inner world." Toshiro debated what to say next. Reaching down, he idly tugged the covers into place. He could count four other sets of breathing patterns, and decided it was safe to talk. "We have to deal with more than physical attacks. We can also be assaulted mentally."

The boy went pale. "Mentally…" he whispered. Toshiro nodded.

"That is part of the reason why you need to learn to meditate. If you can meditate, you can defend yourself." Hitsugaya frowned, a sudden thought occurring to him. "Why did you wake me up?"

Harry gave an uncertain gesture. "I could feel…that."

"That?" Hitsugaya turned, and saw that everything near him was covered in a thin layer of ice. He cursed and surged up out of bed, forcing Potter to hurriedly shuffle out of the way. Luckily the ice didn't seem to go any further than a couple of feet around his bed, but the air was cold enough that he could see his breath. He took a deep breath, allowing the ice to melt. When he turned, he found Potter staring at it in fascination. "If I did not meditate, likely everyone in this room would have died."

Harry turned his gaze up to Toshiro's. "What do I need to do?"


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

The revelation that Shinigami could be attacked mentally seemed to be the metaphorical kick in the pants that Harry needed to actually start caring about his meditation. Instead of Toshiro being forced to drag the boy ankle-first to the dorms to practice, he came to their every third-day sessions (every day and every other day being too much in addition to schoolwork and Quidditch practice) willingly, and sat down semi-subdued for about half an hour. But then, after concentrating so hard that Toshiro feared his head would explode, the boy would leave, complaining of a headache.

Still, it was progress, and Toshiro was happy for at least that little improvement.

Even so, the next several weeks were relatively quiet. Toshiro was still pouring over every book in the library that he could get his hands on, and his dedication to the subject got to the point that Madam Pince would have a stack of books ready for him when he walked in the next morning. He appreciated the gesture, though he suspected she didn't get much of an opportunity to interact with people, given students' general reaction to her presence was to freeze and hope their breathing wasn't too loud.

The dementors, however, were still a source of continual frustration. He went out almost every night over the course of the three weeks after his first attempt. Each day he would wring out what strategies he thought would work against the abominations, and each night he tried said strategies they would fail. Sometimes spectacularly.

One such incident happened only two days after the first attempt. He shunpoed out to the castle perimeter where the dementors patrolled, set up an ambush involving a combination of Kido and magic, and waited for an unsuspecting victim. Said unsuspecting victim floated into his trap and was stuck. Hidden in a tree for the moment, Toshiro took out his soul phone and started to call in the Twelfth; a resounding boom like the crack of a thunderbolt splitting the sky and a flash of light so intense his night vision was thoroughly ruined for several hours was his only result, however. Toshiro haltingly shunpoed away from the resulting crater and blown-down trees before school officials and more dementors could show up. After that he settled down to discover what just what had caused that explosion.

Interestingly enough, as he continued his efforts to capture a dementor he discovered that there was one particular creature whose cloak was rather singed.

He did, however, learn that some Kido spells did _not_ react well to magic.

When, after three weeks of little sleep, he finally admitted defeat and reported back to Soul Society that the dementors were able to repel whatever he had thrown at them, two things happened. First, a faintly-amused Yamamoto handed him off to an enraged Kurotshuchi, who ranted about everything from his competency to his name, before he threw the phone at the surprisingly level-headed Akon. The scientist told him they would be sending him instruments to record various data on the dementors, along with magical enchantments, spiritual energy readings, and several other things that Toshiro was surprised they hadn't insisted on from the beginning.

The second thing that happened was a recision of his original order to capture a dementor. Instead he was to provide with Soul Society a different creature of whatever kind he felt would be sufficient. Toshiro was planning on sending them the hinkypunk when he was walking through the Forbidden Forest one day and came across a wounded thestral lying on its side, with one wing extended and twisted awkwardly. It was old, and he knew it wouldn't survive for long, so he sat with it and comforted it until it died an hour later. Then he sent its body through a Senkaimon to the Twelfth Division. They were satisfied for the moment.

At the same time that he sent them the thestral body, they sent him two boxes of strange equipment that looked more suited to torture than to science. Nevertheless, he set them carefully where he was instructed and let them work.

(While the Twelfth Division Shinigami was there, he managed to extract from the poor boy a promise that the Tenth Division was still standing. "The parties have been kept to a minimum," the assistant scientist said, and stuck to his words even when Hitsugaya gave him a disbelieving stare. Then he went on to explain that Vice-Captain Matsumoto was taking a large part in the Hollow-killing patrols with the younger members, as per Head-Captain Yamamoto's suggestion, and Hitsugaya nodded in understanding. Matsumoto was good at killing Hollows, and she had always been a people-person.)

When the Senkaimon closed behind the Twelfth Division member, Toshiro watched it longingly. He wanted his extended mission to be over and to go back to the normal routine of patrolling and training (and the dreaded paperwork, though that wasn't high on the list), and to wear his haori with pride. He turned back to the school, intent on making sure that Potter was sufficiently able to control his powers and somehow kill Voldemort. Only then could he go back to his normal life.

* * *

The castle looked just as he remembered it. Soaring towers, arching doorways, imposing gray stone walls; it hadn't changed at all since he had attended it himself so many years ago.

The rat streaked down the hill toward the school, darting from one patch of cover to the next. His time out in the wild had weakened him, and by the time he reached the courtyard of the school he was panting heavily, tiny heart thudding wildly in his chest. But, at last! He was back, and it would be warm inside, not like outside with its nasty rain and cold.

The doors were open so he simply walked inside. Wide-open spaces made him uneasy – too many feet to step on him and not enough cover to hide beneath – so he crept along the walls, making his way first to what he remembered was the Great Hall. The room looked so much bigger in this form, but a quick sniff told him that it was empty. No food was to be had there. He continued.

Going down stairs was so much easier than going up, he knew. And the kitchens were downstairs, behind the door with the fruit. For a thin, starving rat, the decision of where to go was obvious. He went to where the food was.

A thin crack under the door was large enough for him to squeeze under, and the room he emerged into was huge and brightly-lit, inhabited by ugly creatures that he remembered well enough from his days as a student. The house-elves bustled around the kitchen, singing and whistling and laughing and banging every manner of pots and pans that they possibly could. They were much larger than his memories said they should be, but he supposed that was to be expected. He was, after all, much smaller than he used to be.

Soon enough he spotted a tray of cookies cooling on an unprotected countertop, so he stealthily stalked over and climbed up, digging his tiny paws and claws into the ridges in the wood when he could not reach a drawer. Once on top of the counter, the smell of the cookies was irresistible. He padded forward, vision tunneling and mouth salivating.

Just as he reached the first row of the sweets, a horrible shriek had him darting back across the counter and diving off. But just as he launched himself into the air, something heavy slammed onto his tail, stopping him mid-flight. He slammed back into the counter roughly and laid there for a moment, stunned, before the pressure on his hairless tail shifted and pinched, and he was held, dangling, in the air far above the ground.

He squeaked at the sight of the stone floor below and struggled to get out of the grasp on his tail, but his captor was strong and would not let go. High-pitched voices spoke all around him. They were not happy.

"Should I kill it?" The voice was the loudest of the lot, so he guessed it was the one holding him. He tried to twist around to bite the house-elf's fingers, but was not able to bend that much. He flopped down, exhausted.

"No!" another voice exclaimed. "It's probably a student's pet! What if its owner gets mad?"

The house-elf holding him lifted him up, and he was suddenly staring into one large, curious brown eye. "Don't look like a pet," the cook said doubtfully. "Looks wild."

"Yeah," another elf agreed. "Look a' its fur!"

The rat was too miserable to complain. Being held upside-down was sending all the blood to his head, and he was getting dizzy. This fact wasn't helped when his captor suddenly shook him a little.

"It might be mad."

"Mad?"

"You know, brain dead? Foaming mouth?"

"Rabies!" an elf exclaimed, and suddenly the large kitchen was filled with the sounds of panicking house-elves. The one holding him dropped him with a startled shriek as one with big gray eyes swung a dough-roller at his hand, but he was too woozy to attempt to twist himself to land on his feet. Luckily a hand shot out and grabbed him before he could hit the floor. In the next instant he was back on the counter, a metal bowl slamming down around him. He squeaked as the sound of it hitting the counter rattled his brain, and curled into a little ball to escape the pain and cover his sensitive ears.

This wasn't going as planned.

* * *

By the time the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff game came around, Harry was getting very good at sucking at meditation. He was trying to clear his mind, he really was, but he just couldn't do it. Thoughts always kept crowding in, clamouring and each trying to shout louder than the next. It was frustrating. Even the littlest thing, like the rustle of curtains, distracted him.

Toshiro didn't seem to know what to do either, though he would probably hack off his own arm with that ridiculously long sword he sometimes saw before admitting to it. Unfortunately he wasn't much of a help, as Harry had seen him able to ignore everyone in the room even when Fred and George were setting off miniature firecrackers, but couldn't give him any better advice than _just focus on your breathing – in-out, in-out – and let your thoughts flow away with your breath._

Yes, thank you very much, that's _so_ helpful!

"I think it's instinctive for him," Hermione said after a particularly irritating session of breathing. _I know how to breathe! I don't need help with that!_ "He's probably just done it so many times he doesn't remember how he did it the first time."

Ron had snorted at that and muttered something unflattering under his breath about doing it – and Harry knew he wasn't talking about something as innocent as meditating. Hermione heard Ron and glared at him, getting up with a huff and stomping up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

"What's up with her?" Ron had asked, staring after her. "Did she want to be his first or something?"

" _Ron_!" Harry had hissed, struggling not to laugh, just as a certain someone appeared in the room – silently, as always.

"Who wants to be who's first what?"

Both boys had turned mortified looks to a bemused Toshiro standing behind them, arms crossed over his chest. They exchanged glances, then burst out laughing. Harry couldn't imagine _Toshiro_ ever doing it – he'd probably just scowl and freeze everything around him. Meanwhile, Toshiro shook his head and climbed out the portrait hole, mumbling something about strange, inexplicable mortals, none the wiser. It was probably for the best.

* * *

Toshiro walked down the hallway. _I need a quiet place._ He turned back. _Somewhere that no one will find me._ He turned one more time, feeling foolish. _A place preferably cold._

A slight grinding sound made him look over his shoulder at a section of stone wall that, three seconds ago, used to be bare. Now an outline of a door with elaborate wrought iron designs was appearing swiftly, and soon was as real as most doors in the castle. Hitsugaya eyed it, a little surprised that it had worked. Then again, all of Black's other information on the castle was real so he supposed he should have expected this to work as well.

As soon as he stepped inside he was blasted with a wall of cold air. He took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of it. Cold air was crisp and refreshing; warm air just made him want to freeze his division over and refuse to melt it no matter what it did to the paint.

He took a step further into the room, his feet sinking into the snow with dull squeaks, and let the door fall closed behind him. It was a large place: the ceiling looked to be several stories tall, the side walls were roughly a football field's length apart, and the wall opposite him was so far away he could barely see it. Perfect. And, according to Black, no one would be able to see, hear, or detect him in any magical way while he was in there. Toshiro hoped that included reiatsu, because this room was quickly becoming someplace that he could train in. Hyourinmaru clearly thought so too, since the first thing he did after Toshiro materialized him was roar loudly and circle the room in graceful loops.

Setting out to explore the room while the ice dragon stretched his wings, Toshiro wondered how this place was created. Surely this magic would be coveted by anyone with even a shred of intelligence. A room that could create anything that you desired? He was surprised word hadn't spread and wizards from all over the world weren't dueling in the streets. Whoever made this was generous, to say the least. This was just another example of how the Wizarding World differed from the Soul Society – the Shinigami would be fighting a perpetual battle royale for the rights to the room.

As he walked around the perimeter of the room, Hitsugaya set up Kido barriers that would ensure his reiatsu couldn't be detected outside of the walls. He didn't trust the magic to keep him concealed, especially if he had a bad day and needed to work out some energy before feeling like he could deal with the children without freezing them all.

Once he was done, he made his way to what was roughly the center of the room and drew his sword. Hyourinmaru descended curiously, his tail lashing out behind him and casting puffs of snow up into the air. "Training?" he asked, eyes shining. Toshiro nodded, and the dragon bared his teeth before lunging forward.

* * *

To Hitsugaya's relief, no one seemed to have noticed anything wrong even when he went full Bankai right in the middle of the castle. He exited the Room of Requirement cautiously, fully expecting an angry horde of teachers to be waiting just outside with drawn wands, but everything was quiet. He managed to get back to the common room without incident, and once there all but fell into bed. It was good to train like that again, even if it was with the Limiter on.

The next time he visited Black, he made sure to bring more food than usual, as a sort of thank you for telling him about the room. Black seemed to appreciate it, although it was hard to tell with him. Any and all food was scarfed down within a matter of seconds. Toshiro thought reflexively that the man would probably be able to eat Inoue's concoctions, if they were put in front of him.

"The Room of Requirement really is all that you said it was," Toshiro said, sitting gingerly on the dusty couch. Black barely looked up as he nodded. "How did you find it?"

Now that he had to do more than give a simple nod, shake, or grunt, the man paused with a handful of bread half-way to his mouth. "The four of us did," he said with a fond smile. Toshiro waited patiently as he brought the bread to his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "We were running from the caretaker."

"That seems to have happened a lot," Toshiro commented. Black grinned and nodded.

"We got in trouble quite a bit," he agreed happily. "Of course, we then had to get ourselves _out_ of it, and that proved to be much harder. Pringle loved to use his cane, so we at least had a motivation to get away."

"Pringle?" Toshiro tilted his head. He was imagining a giant chip with a cane – but that was ridiculous. Then again, these were the same people that enchanted books to bite anyone who got near. It was entirely possible someone had enchanted a potato chip…

"The caretaker," Black explained. "Who is it now? Squelch? Filth?"

"Filch. And his cat."

Black didn't seem surprised at this. In his opinion, a caretaker of Hogwarts was only there to punish the students and therefore needed someone to talk to. (Although, he added, cats weren't good conversationalists. They tended to trail off in the middle of a sentence and start licking themselves. Quite an annoying habit, when one was trying to get information from them.) "Anyway," he continued, "we hid in there when Pringle and another teacher trapped us in a hallway. Boy were we glad when that door appeared."

Toshiro waited in silence as a fond smile made its way onto Black's face. "We used that room a lot," he added reflexively, clearly lost in memories. "Whenever we ran from teachers, needed a place to plan pranks in peace, if we couldn't get Remus here on time, when we were making the map…"

"Wait, what do you mean about getting someone here on time?" Toshiro leaned forward. "Here, here? Why did you need to get him here?"

Black suddenly looked uncomfortable. He glanced away from the Shinigami and stared at a spot on the floor. "I probably shouldn't tell you. People don't tend to – they judge quickly."

"I'm not in the habit of judging others based on their looks, if that is what you are concerned about," Toshiro reassured him. He gestured to his hair and eyes. "What do you think people say about this?"  
Well, they judged him more by his age, but that wasn't important. Black glanced at him then returned his gaze to the floor. He was anxiously twisting a carrot in his hands.

"Black," Toshiro started, with the intention of telling him to forget it, but the man beat him to it.

"He had a condition," the escaped prisoner blurted out, then winced, as if berating himself for saying anything. Toshiro stayed quiet, knowing he would tell him more quickly if he didn't push the man. "Every month, we had to – get him here, so he wouldn't…"

"Wouldn't what?" Hitsugaya prodded gently. Black hesitated, sighed, then continued with force.

"So he wouldn't hurt anyone. He was a – a werewolf." He glanced nervously at Hitsugaya, who blinked but said nothing. He was, after all, used to working with a wolf. His silence appeared to reassure the man. "The Shack was built to keep him safe once a month during his transformations. That's why we became Animagi, you know," Black rambled quickly. "The three of us. We didn't want Remus to be alone, and we could help control him."

"So you did something to help a friend," Hitsugaya said. Black nodded. "That is admirable."

Seeming to relax a little, Black continued. "We all did it – well, James and I had to help Peter, but he did it, too – and then it just seemed so obvious. We were the Marauders. Moony, Wormtail, Prongs, and Padfoot. It just fit."

"I'm sure it did."

Black nodded silently. He continued eating, clearly lost in his memories, and a few minutes later Toshiro left. His presence was obviously not helping any. As he shunpoed up out of the tunnel under the Whomping Willow's roots, he wondered absently if the tree was planted to help keep inside an angry werewolf. From what Snape had made them learn about the creatures, the transformations were painful and unwanted, and the unfortunate person also lost control of their human mind. They became an animal – not even that, really. They went after humans with a vengeance but didn't usually hurt animals, and if there was neither around to keep it occupied during its transformation, it could resort to harming itself. The scars from werewolf wounds never fully fade.

* * *

The months passed by with nothing much of note happening. Two weeks from the end of term, the chilly, drizzly rain turned overnight into snow, and the morning after mid-terms ended, students rushed outside to play in the first snowfall of the winter. Thus began the annual struggle of Hermione and Toshiro.

"Put these on."

"I don't need gloves."

"At least put on a scarf!"

"I don't need it."

"Of course you do. Here, I'll just–"

"Granger! Get off me! I said I don't need it!"

"If you don't put _something_ warm on, you'll freeze to death. Then what'll I do?"

"What does this have to do with you?"

She paused, spluttered, then continued. "You're the only one who does his homework! Who else am I supposed to check my answers against?"

"Weasley and Potter… I see your point. But I still don't need warm clothes."

"Yes, you– Don't walk away from me!"

"I'm going – hey! Don't throw clothes on me!"

"Wear the cloak!"

"I. Don't. Need. It."

"Just put on the cloak, mate," said a boy from across the room. Toshiro and Hermione turned to find that snickering spectators were watching from perches all around the common room.

"Stay out of this," Toshiro warned the boy with a glare. The effect was ruined when Hermione took advantage of his lack of concentration to wrap a scarf around his neck. "What're you – uck! Not so tight!"

"Well, hold still."

"I'm not going to hold still while you are trying to strangle me!" Toshiro broke free of her fussing and escaped out the portrait hole, scarf and cloak fluttering to the ground behind him. Hermione huffed, picked them up, and followed him.

* * *

Having experienced two winter holidays at Hogwarts already, Toshiro felt assured that he would know what to expect. For the most part, he was right. Hagrid dragged in the trees for the Great Hall that would become festooned with lights and tinsel and ornaments. The suits of armor all had red and white hats with little white balls stuck on their helmets. Some of the staircase banisters were wrapped in long chains of leaves. (These were immediately taken down when a first year girl had a bad allergic reaction to them.)

What Hitsugaya wasn't prepared for, however, was what Professor Flitwick did to his classroom. Little balls of soft light floated around the room, casting a strange light effect on every surface. Toshiro took a seat warily, and watched as one of the light balls drifted over to him, eventually settling on the back of his hand. This was when he discovered that the little balls of light were alive. They were fairies. He should have expected something like this from the wizards, but he had to stare at the miniscule creature for some time before believing it.

Later on that day, a flyer appeared on the common room message board, declaring that another Hogsmeade weekend was coming up the last weekend before end of term. Toshiro wasn't planning on attending, having had his fill of sitting – very bored – in the corner of The Three Broomsticks while Ron and Hermione talked excitedly and drank glasses of butterbeer. He was relieved to learn that the drink didn't actually contain alcohol, and so made the mistake of getting curious and ordering one for himself. The instant he took one sip he knew he hated it; it tasted like a whole tub of butter was liberally scooped into the drink and stirred until the liquid was so saturated that it couldn't absorb any more butter. He had to repress his gag instinct and shove the offending drink away from him, saying that Ron or Hermione could have the awful thing. Both children gave him incredulous looks at the offer and hurried to accept.

So, when the eligible children gathered at the front steps and left to the wizarding village, he, Harry, and a few older students were left alone in the castle. The older students were seated around the common room tables, papers and books spread out around them in complicated arrays of charts, texts on astrological signs, and various compasses and devices used to measure the stars. Apparently there was a large end-of-term Astronomy project due next Wednesday, and many students hadn't even started yet. Toshiro observed their frantic scribbling and dashes to the window with charmed glasses that could show the positions of the stars even in the day, and decided he had best finish some of his own dreaded work.

Homework was not his focus on this mission, and as such it had been relegated to the back burner for several weeks during his battles with the dementors and the Twelfth's equipment. So now he had an unfortunate backlog of work that he had to get done, starting with Ancient Runes. This was a relatively simple subject for Toshiro, as in the Academy they had been taught several different languages so that they could understand what was going on in the World of the Living on missions and such. The Tenth Division's territory contained many of the northern countries, and their languages were extremely diverse, so even after graduating from the Academy he had been forced to study in the barrack's library before heading out on missions. As a result, he was fluent in several languages and passable in others. This fact had astonished the Runes teacher, Professor Bathsheda Babbling, a witch who, like her name suggested, was prone to rambling on about a subject, occasionally drifting off into another language while her students stared at her with blank faces. He had once had a long and involved conversation with her entirely in Welsh.

The class was currently studying what the Ancient Egyptian wizards had used for their magic. (Hitsugaya had been to the desert a few times early in his career as a Shinigami, and while it was an excellent place to train, he was barely able to tolerate the arid summer days for long stretches at a time.)

Ancient Runes work done, he stretched and typed out a quick response to one of his Eighth Seats, who had a question about Hell Butterfly care. His soul phone number was public knowledge in his Division, as was every Captain's in their respective Divisions, and he made it clear when he left for this extended mission that anyone was free to call or text him if there was a problem, though this was one of the few that he had received. Normally the Division would go to Matsumoto while he was away, though she was again out with some of the unranked members in the Rukongai and couldn't answer their questions. At the end of his answer he asked why the girl wanted to know about the Butterflies – they were maintained by the Twelfth Division and therefore he had never concerned himself overly with them – and set aside his phone.

Arithmancy was essentially a mathematics course. He had signed up for it the previous year since he had always been good at math and enjoyed it, to the concern of others at the Academy. He felt validated when Hermione said she liked it as well, and the two often correlated on the work, as the charts they used were convoluted and required a great deal of concentration.

Among the other electives available at Hogwarts was Muggle Studies. Toshiro had elected not to take this course, as he had been on many missions to the Living World and was familiar with the human technology. Potions ended up taking longer than he expected – Snape had assigned them a lengthy essay about the properties of the Confusing Concoction, which had the irony of being quite straightforward. Unfortunately, he couldn't remember enough about it from memory to fill up four pages, so he had to refer back to the textbook.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was simple: create an anatomically correct diagram of any creature that they had studied so far and label their magical properties. Hitsugaya chose the hinkypunk, since he was sure it still had a grudge against him. Care of Magical Creatures didn't even have any homework, which he was a bit surprised at but wasn't about to complain.

Transfiguration and Charms both had spells that they had to practice. Toshiro found it quite easy, and moved on to his last, and most dreaded, subject: Divination. It was a constant battle between him and Professor Trelawney over the window. He wanted to keep it open, and felt that the perfumes would suffocate him without it providing fresh air – she said the scents "stimulated their minds and provided a comforting place to concentrate." Needless to say, he dreaded going to her class.

He had just finished all his work and was settling down for a nap when the dormitory door swung open, and Harry rushed in, practically toppling his bed in his eagerness to pull out his Invisibility Cloak. Toshiro rolled over onto his side and lazily watched his struggle to tug the cloak out from under his mattress. "What are you doing?" he asked, making Harry jump. The boy turned to him, face a perfect example of what not to look like when trying to look innocent.

"Nothing," he answered, and his tone only cemented Hitsugaya's belief that the boy was doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. Again.

His gaze traveled down to the parchment clutched in Potter's hand. "What is that?" He pointed at it. Harry held it closer.

"Nothing."

Hitsugaya sighed and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Potter, considering how much you lie to the teachers, you are awful at it." He paused to consider the tense boy. "I am guessing you are sneaking out to Hogsmeade?"

Harry's stunned expression lingered for too long to dismiss. It only served to confirm the Shinigami's suspicion.

"I see," he said thoughtfully, mind running over all the possibilities. "Then the paper will somehow get you into Hogsmeade without using the front gate, as Filch is guarding it… It is a map? Of secret passages?"

Harry's mouth was hanging open, and he could do little more than nod. Toshiro let out a breath and laid back down again. "Right. Well, do whatever you want." He closed his eyes.

There was silence in the room for several minutes, then he heard the soft thumps of feet on the floor approaching. "Um, do you…do you want to…see it?" Potter's voice sounded uncertain, nervous. Rightfully so. Toshiro opened his eyes, and that seemed to be all the confirmation that the boy needed, for in the next instant Potter was unfolding the map and tapping his wand gently to it. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Lines instantly appeared on the map, scrawling themselves into an intricate diagram of the castle. They showed rooms marked with various subjects, hallways, and passages, and when Harry unfolded some of the side, the other floors appeared. Toshiro sat up when his eyes landed on the title:

 _Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_

 _Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers_

 _are proud to present_

THE MARAUDER'S MAP

 _"We were the Marauders. Moony, Wormtail, Prongs, and Padfoot. It just fit."_ Black's voice echoed in his mind. The Marauders. What were their names? Black, James, Peter, and… It took him a minute of thinking, but he finally remembered. Remus, the werewolf. So logically, Remus was Moony; Black turns into a dog, so he would be Padfoot; Peter Pettigrew was the rat, so Wormtail, obviously. That just leaves James, who must have been Prongs.

 _I wonder what his Animagus form was,_ Toshiro thought, then glanced up at Harry, who was watching him anxiously, with the expression of one who had just made something they were inordinately proud of. _His father was a Marauder. That explains where he gets his impulsiveness from._ Seeing that the boy was expecting a response, he said, "This is impressive. Where did you get it?"

For, surely he couldn't have enchanted it himself.

"Fred and George," Harry answered. Toshiro bit his tongue. Of course those two.

"What are the dots?" he asked, pointing to what looked like footprints pacing around a room labeled Dumbledore's Office.

"People," Harry answered. "Apparently it can tell where anyone is, anywhere in the castle."

Now _that_ would be useful. Toshiro examined it more closely for a few minutes until Harry pulled it back, saying that he needed to go to Honeydukes. Toshiro let him go, lying on his bed, thinking. A map that showed where any person was at any given time would be indescribably helpful. He wondered how one would go about making one.

* * *

Even if Toshiro hadn't been able to sense Harry, Hermione, and Ron's magical signatures coming his way – and ranging from mildly distressed to downright furious, it would take an idiot to miss them – he would have known that something was wrong the instant Harry stalked into the dorm, slamming the door shut behind him. Toshiro, just finished reading the report his Eight Seat sent regarding the Hell Butterflies, closed his soul phone and sat up just in time for Harry to seize the front of his robes and push him back against the wall. Hitsugaya put up no resistance, clearly able to see that to fight would only further anger the boy.

And besides, it wasn't as if Harry could actually harm him.

"Why didn't you tell me Sirius Black is my godfather?" Harry bellowed, shaking Toshiro a little. The Shinigami simply raised an eyebrow.

"Is he?" he asked innocently. Harry seemed taken aback.

"You didn't know?"

"Told you," Hermione sighed.

Perhaps it wasn't the wisest course of action – that would be to continue his charade of ignorance – but Toshiro wasn't in the mood. "Of course I knew," he said, and Harry's expression hardened. " _That_ is how you lie; not your pathetic excuse earlier."

"Are you taking lessons from Malfoy on being a prat?" Ron asked, wide-eyed. "Cause you sound like one." Next to him, Hermione rolled her eyes and sat down on Neville's bed.

Harry seemed to be taking issue with the first subject, though. "Why didn't you tell me?!" he exclaimed again. "Why? He's my godfather!"

"I felt he should be the one to tell you," Toshiro answered, and looked pointedly down at Harry's hands, which were fisted in the fabric of his shirt. He could feel his hands shaking – with anger or some other, uncontrolled emotion heightened by adrenaline, he didn't know. "It is not my place."

Even as he spoke he inwardly winced. Now that he had said it aloud… He sounded haughty. Given everything else that he had already meddled in… And Harry knew it. "Not your place?" he repeated, incredulous. His fists tightened until his knuckles were white. "Not your _place_?!"

"Harry…" Hermione tried to placate him, but the boy waved her off. His now-free hand trembled by his side.

"Shut up, Hermione. Stay out of this."

Toshiro's eyes narrowed. "Don't talk to her like that," he said coldly when he saw the hurt expression cross the girl's face. Harry scoffed.

"You can't say that. You're rude to us all the time."

"Yes, but with reason. You are just angry."

At this close of range, with Harry's hand still holding him against the wall, Toshiro had no chance to avoid the fist that suddenly came crashing into his face. It hit his cheekbone, knocking his head back and to the side. For several long minutes there was an utter silence in the room as Toshiro rubbed his cheek and glared at Harry. The urge to punch the boy back was so strong he had to grip the bedsheets in an effort to keep himself from reacting. He took several deep breaths, and when he felt he had complete control over himself, he looked back up at Harry, who was looking shocked, staring at his hand. It was red, and the skin over the knuckles was cracked, oozing blood.

"Do you feel better now?" Toshiro asked. Harry released him, stumbling back a few steps.

"I don't – I didn't–"

" _Harry_!" Hermione hissed, now standing. One hand was lifted as if to pull the boy back.

Hitsugaya stood, putting his hands on Harry's shoulders and applying pressure until he sat. He looked up at the Shinigami, a dazed expression in his eyes. "I did know that Sirius Black is your godfather," he said, and a spark of anger came back into Harry's eyes, but was still overshadowed by shame. "I did not tell you because I do not interfere in people's personal lives. I do not dictate who may see who, and I do not tell others who admires who. I do this because of my position, but mostly because it is not who I am to control others' lives like that. Do you understand?"

Harry swallowed and nodded, biting his lip. He looked away.

"I felt it is Black's responsibility to tell you your relationship, not mine," Toshiro continued. "If you wish, now that you know who he is to you, I can take you to see him. Do you want me to take you to him?"

"I don't… I don't know."

"Think about it." Toshiro released his shoulders and moved away, towards the door. Harry's voice stopped him.

"Wait. I'm sorry. About…" He made an ambiguous gesture. Toshiro understood anyway.

"Think no more of it. I have taken worse." He left, closing the door softly behind him.

* * *

The resulting bruise from Harry's punch wasn't deep enough to warrant healing Kido. Instead Toshiro let it fade on its own, and simply ignored the looks he got from others. And, since this was a school and in any school fights are common, the teachers merely gave him exasperated looks and said nothing. It faded after a couple days, however, and was soon forgotten. Harry was warier around him, seemingly under the impression that at any moment Toshiro would snap and retaliate with all of his considerable strength, but he didn't. Like he had said, he had taken much worse than that before and survived.

The castle was practically empty by the time Christmas day rolled around. Toshiro allowed himself to sleep later than he normally would, and thus missed the initial excitement over the Firebolt broomstick that Harry was gifted anonymously. But he would be hard-pressed to miss Ron's screech as Crookshanks scratched him.

Lunchtime in the Great Hall was downright depressing. The tables had been rearranged so that everyone – meaning the five remaining professors, Filch, two terrified first year, one bored Slytherin, and the four Gryffindors – could sit together. Dumbledore seemed to be the only one having a good time, producing a vulture-hat from a cracker noisemaker and starting the conversations around the table. But with Filch sitting at one end and glaring at all the students, muttering under his breath and ruthlessly stabbing his potatoes, and Snape at the other radiating his usual conceited aura, it was impossible to get into a cheerful mood.

The only interesting thing that happened was when Professor Trelawney entered, made a big fuss about them only having thirteen members, and Snape snidely pointed out that she would make fourteen. She sat.

Some time into the meal, Trelawney made a comment about Professor Lupin refusing to let her see his future with a crystal ball. She thought he was ill. Dumbledore replied that he would be well, as long as he took Snape's potion. The seven students present looked confused, but then Dumbledore offered a plate of biscuits to one of the first years, and the topic was forgotten.

Filch left the table first, muttering something about polishing the suits of armor, and the meal continued for another ten minutes, at which point Toshiro felt that a sufficient amount of time had passed for him to make his escape from the incredibly awkward situation. Just as he stood, however, Trelawney let out a screech.

"The first! You are the first to rise and the first to die!"

Ron choked on his pumpkin juice.

* * *

Toshiro ran the possible ways it could have worked through his mind. He didn't get it. "But _how_?" he asked. Black stared at him as if he was a dolphin balancing a ball on his nose.

"Through the mail."

"So _anyone_ can access your account?"

"No," Black answered, looking affronted. "I sent them the key to the vault."

Toshiro threw up his hands.

"Did Harry like my present?" Black asked eagerly. Toshiro stared at him blankly.

"Your present?" Then realization hit. "Oh. The Firebolt? Yeah, he was thrilled."

"Good," Black grinned. "I thought he'd like a new one, after his…" He trailed off.

"Crashed? Destroyed? Utterly demolished?"

"Yes!"

"All right." Toshiro shook his head, amused. "Oh, Potter found out about you being his godfather."

Black leaned forward anxiously. "Really? What'd he say?" Then he frowned. "I thought you weren't going to tell him."

"I didn't. He snuck into Hogsmeade and overheard some people talking."

"That's my boy!"

"Yes, well, he didn't take it well." Seeing Black's worried expression, he continued. "It took him a while to calm down. But I offered to take him here. He said he'd think about it."

"Well, I…guess that's good," Black said uncertainly. Toshiro shrugged.

"It's progress."

The sun, lancing through cracks in the boarded-up windows, illuminated streaks of dust in the air. Toshiro watched the particles swirl. They were mesmerizing, and he started to get drowsy. He stood, stretching. "I'd better get back."

Black nodded, looking disappointed. "Right. Try to convince Harry to come see me, won't you?"

Toshiro shrugged again and left. The sun sparking off the snow was quite beautiful, creating a cold world that he missed in the summertime. He stayed outside for a few minutes, enjoying the snow, before heading inside again. On the way up the stairs he saw Professor McGonagall heading down, a long, sleek broomstick held gingerly in one hand.

"Isn't that Potter's Firebolt?" Toshiro asked, confused. He didn't think the boy would give that thing up for anything, and yet here was McGonagall walking away from the Gryffindor common room with it, treating it like it was a hissing snake.

"Yes, it is," McGonagall answered, not even pausing. "If you will excuse me…" She was gone. Hitsugaya shook his head, sure that everyone in the school had gone mad, and continued on to the common room.

"Handlebar mustache," he said to Sir Cadogan, who let him in. Inside the common room, he was immediately assaulted with the sound of a fight. Ron and Hermione were standing in the middle of the room, Hermione stood with her arms crossed protectively while Ron waved around his hand. Harry was standing to one side, looking like he wanted to stop them but unsure how to go about the task.

"How would he even get it in here?" Ron asked, intensely. "He's a fugitive!"

"He got out of Azkaban without the dementors knowing about it," Hermione retorted. "He could easily get in here." She spotted Toshiro lingering by the portrait hole. "Right? Couldn't he?"

Toshiro held up his hands. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

"Hermione told McGonagall about the Firebolt," Harry chipped in miserably. "She thinks Sirius Black sent it."

Toshiro processed this. "Oh. Well…he did."

"Ha!" Hermione exclaimed and turned a superior look on Ron. The red-head glowered at her.

"But it's not cursed! It would have done something by now if it was!"

"Black wouldn't have cursed it," Toshiro put in. He leaned to the side to look at Harry. "I think he really does care for you."

"Ha!" Ron smirked at Hermione. She turned a desperate look on Toshiro.

"But he could be lying to you!"

"He could be, but I don't think so. He seems genuine."

Hermione's eyes suddenly glittered dangerously, and with a distressed sound she turned on her heel and ran up the staircase to the girls' dormitory. There was a silence in the common room for several minutes as they listened to her pound up the stairs and then slam a door behind her.

"So…" Ron said, twisting his foot awkwardly. "Who's going to go up and comfort her?"


	16. Chapter 16

**Here's your philosophical question of the day: If an author never promised when a chapter was going to be posted, is that chapter really late?**

 **Anyway, to make up for it this chapter is 8136 words long! Yeesh.**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

His mission brief two years ago hadn't included the fact that he would be comforting distraught girls. Neither had his training in the Academy. And, as he stood at the bottom of the staircase up to the girls' dormitory, he was still wondering how the two mortal children had convinced him to do it. He wasn't sure.

Getting up the stairs proved to be rather tricky. Three steps up, the staircase suddenly folded down into a slick slope, sending him sliding back down to the bottom before transforming into a staircase again. A second try, this time while running, simply ended up with him sliding back down again. His third try included a shunpo, which got him all the way up. He walked slowly down the hallway, looking for the third year room, and once he found it he knocked softly.

Toshiro opened the door when Hermione's voice called, "Come in." The room was like his, with beds lining the walls surrounded by red-and-gold drapes. Hermione was sitting on one by the back corner, so he walked back there, feeling like he was marching to his death. She looked up as he approached, surprised.

"How did you get up the stairs?"

Toshiro shrugged, glancing around the room to make sure they were alone. "Shinigami, remember?"

"Oh." She nodded, then looked down and shifted awkwardly. Toshiro fought an urge to fiddle with a loose thread on the curtains, and instead clasped his hands behind his back. He'd never been good with people – that was Matsumoto's job. People went to her if they were having personal problems; they went to him if they had business issues. "Why did you come up here?"

Several answers ran through his mind. Most of them required cursing at a certain two boys. He went with a safer reply. "You seemed…upset."

Well, at least it hadn't come out like a question. Hermione glanced up at him, brows pulling together into a puzzled expression. "You came up here to comfort me?" Her tone made it seem as if the concept was foreign to her – and it probably was. Toshiro was the person who made people upset, even if it was unintentional.

Toshiro took a steadying breath. He had faced Adjuchas and Espada without flinching; he could comfort one thirteen year old. "Yes."

His problem was that he had no idea how he was supposed to go about this. The three women he had known in his life – Granny, Hinamori, and Matsumoto – never needed him to comfort them. Well, to be fair, Momo had come to him a couple times when she was upset, but as soon she realized his utter incompetence in the area she soon found others to talk to.

Immediately after the Winter War Matsumoto would get emotional and visit him in the hospital, while Captain Unohana still had him under a rigorous program to strengthen his arm. In that case he and his Vice-Captain would just sit quietly in the same room. He didn't know why, but those sessions would serve to calm Matsumoto down, and she would leave the room with a sad smile.

And Granny never needed his help. She was as strong as anyone he knew, even the Captains.

To make matters even worse, Toshiro wasn't even sure what Hermione was upset about. The conversation had been a mild argument, certainly, but it was nothing to cry about. It was a simple case of differences of opinions. He didn't see anything worth the fuss.

To his relief, the witch gave him a tearful smile. "Thanks, but I'm fine. You don't have to comfort me."

Toshiro searched for words. She was obviously _not_ fine, as evidenced by her watery eyes and trembling hands and slumped posture. "Respectfully, Granger, I don't think you are."

And then came the tears. They welled up in Hermione's eyes and rolled down her cheeks; she turned away from him and furiously brushed them away. Toshiro hesitantly reached out, but pulled his hand back behind his back before he touched her shoulder. "Do you…want to talk about it?" he asked when it seemed her tears had dried up. Still not looking at him, she shook her bushy head.

Bewildered, he backed up a few steps. "Then I will…leave you to it."

Before he could escape fully, she called out, "Wait!" Toshiro halted only feet from the doorway, and looked at it longingly. So close! "I just wanted to keep Harry safe. I didn't want to see– He fell from his broom last time; I didn't want that to happen again."

Turning around revealed that Hermione was perched on the edge of her bed, leaning forward and twisting her hands anxiously. When her eyes met his, she repeated miserably, "I just didn't want him to get hurt."

"That is admirable," Toshiro told her. He paused. "But sometimes people don't understand even the noblest of intentions. Weasley and Potter are angry, but they will get over it, in time."

"How much time?"

 _I don't know; I don't live in their minds,_ Toshiro would normally grumble, but not in this case. That would likely push her over the edge again. "When they get the broom back, I suppose."

Hermione's shoulders slumped. "That could take weeks!"

"Yes," Toshiro agreed, for a lack of anything better to say. Hermione lifted her gaze to his again.

"Thank you. For coming up here, I mean. But I want to be alone right now."

"Of course." Toshiro inclined his head and left, shutting the door softly behind him. He walked heavily down the stairs, running over the conversation in his mind. He couldn't help but feel like he had failed her.

* * *

Tensions in the practically-deserted Gryffindor common room became very strained. Any time the Trio were in the room together, Ron would send Hermione dark glares, muttering things about brooms and jinxes. Eventually Hermione got so fed up with it that she retreated to the library for most of the day.

Three days after the unfortunate betrayal, Toshiro got a call from Matsumoto on his soul phone. He was expecting bad news – a patrol got caught by a Hollow and all the members died; someone blew up his office, something like that – but what he got was surprising, and yet he should have seen it coming.

 **"The new recruits have been getting restless."**

 **"What do you mean?"** Hitsugaya asked, lying down against the cold tile roof of the Gryffindor Tower. Matsumoto's voice was uncharacteristically somber, although it was lacking an urgency that Toshiro had learned to listen for.

 **"They haven't said it directly, but I've been hearing them talk when they don't think anyone's listening."** Toshiro had to smile at that. Matsumoto sometimes said that gathering rumors was the part of her job that she liked the most: it gave her a sense of what really was going on in the Division, instead of having to figure it out in a face-to-face confrontation. She continued. **"Most of them are unhappy that you aren't here. A few even wondered if you died and the high-ups have been keeping it secret."**

 **"That's ridiculous,"** Toshiro said. **"What have you said to that?"**

 **"Well, I can't say anything until they say it to me directly, but I've been telling them that you are on an extended mission. There's no reason to lie to them, but like I said, they're nervous. I'm worried they'll start to think you've abandoned us."**

Toshiro mulled this over. Restless Shinigami were destructive Shinigami. Shinigami that had no trust in their superiors – those disobeyed orders and got themselves killed. Perhaps he should show them that he hadn't abandoned them. **"If I come back briefly, will that solve the issue?"**

Matsumoto took a moment to answer. She sounded thoughtful. **"It should be. Will you come back immediately?"**

Toshiro was about to confirm this when he thought of something. **"I will need to clear it on my end. I will call you later."**

 **"Okay, Captain. Bye!"**

Closing the phone, he looked out over the school grounds. The evening sun casted a golden light on the lake, and the little waves wrinkling the surface glittered. Then a sleek tentacle broke the surface of the water, rising up and turning over before sinking under again. He sighed. This was exactly why he disliked extended missions. They just created so many problems that he couldn't fix unless he was there – and if he was there they wouldn't be a problem in the first place. They were just so inconvenient.

Still, he couldn't blame the new recruits for wanting to see their Captain. He remembered what it was like when Captain Shiba disappeared. Everyone was disheartened for a long time, and back then he couldn't maintain his Bankai for long enough to use it in a fight. It had taken several years for him to have trained enough to pass the Captain's exam. No one had even known that he _had_ Bankai, and Yamamoto was desperate to find new Captains, what with the recent bad luck they had had. The Tenth had gotten more and more discouraged as the other Divisions got Captains and they didn't. He remembered how excited they had been when the rumor had gone around that someone had passed the Captain's exam, and how eager they had seemed the day before they saw him. They didn't know, of course, that _he_ was their new Captain until he walked in the front gates wearing the haori.

With another sigh, he rolled over and gracefully got to his feet, adjusting them slightly for balance. He climbed down and swung through his window into the dorms, startling Potter, who was attempting to build a house of cards. His hands jerked and they folded in on themselves with a soft rustle.

McGonagall was not hard to find. She was in her office with Professor Flitwick and Madam Hooch, and all three were standing next to her desk, on which the Firebolt lay, when he received permission to enter. Her face when she saw him was resigned.

"As I told Potter and Weasley, you will get it back when you get it back," she preempted him irritably. Toshiro held up his hands in a placating gesture.

"I am not here about the broomstick. You could burn it for all I care."

Madam Hooch scowled at him for this, her yellow eyes narrowing. Perhaps that hadn't been the best thing to say. "There will be no broomstick burning while I am around," she declared. With a lamentable lack of anything better to say, Toshiro inclined his head to her.

"What do you need, then?" McGonagall asked, her voice only marginally gentler. Her hair was, as ever, pulled into a tight bun atop her head, and Toshiro couldn't help but think of Momo. Then again, he had never seen her be as harsh as McGonagall could be.

"I received a message from home," he said smoothly. "Something happened, and I need to go home for the rest of the break."

McGonagall frowned at this and straightened, slipping her wand into her sleeve. "If you absolutely need to, you of course are allowed to go, but may I know what the problem is? This is unusual."

"It is a family emergency and is private."

McGonagall inclined her head, ceding the point to him. "Very well. I will speak to Professor Dumbledore. Will you need to leave immediately?"

"As soon as possible, yes."

"Then meet me here tomorrow morning. I presume you can get home if you Floo to the Leaky Cauldron?"

"I can," he nodded. It would be a simple matter to open a Senkaimon once he found a private place. Which, in crowded London, was rare but not impossible.

"I will make the arrangements, then."

And, with a grateful bow – they really were good at getting things done here, if it was small-scale such as this – he exited the office.

* * *

McGonagall made good on her word and met him in her office the following morning. She directed him to the fireplace, and soon he was tumbling out of the Leaky Cauldron's hearth, his white hair dusted with a fine black layer of soot. Grumbling, he ruffled his hair to clear it of the stuff. Tom greeted him with a cordial nod, asking him cheerfully if he needed any help. This early in the morning, even during winter break, the pub was empty. Toshiro declined the offer and emerged from the warm building into a noisy, smog-filled London. He set off down the street to the park he had found during the summer. Once there, he removed his gigai and shrunk it to fit into his suitcase, then opened a Senkaimon and waited for a Hell Butterfly to appear.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione had been surprised when he told them that he was leaving. Hermione looked dismayed; her only friend who didn't hate her was leaving abruptly. Toshiro wasn't too concerned about them – they weren't planning on storming a secret, trap-infested tunnel or brewing a dangerous potion, so they should be fine. Then again, it was _those three_ , so anything could happen.

A slight tinkling preceded the arrival of a Hell Butterfly, and once the black insect appeared he followed it into the Precipice World and out the other side in the Soul Society. He nodded a greeting to the Gate Guards, relieved that he was free of his ridiculous Hogwarts uniform and back in the comfortable shihakusho and Captain's haori of a Shinigami. Matsumoto was waiting for him just a few feet away from the gates, though she came bouncing over when he appeared.

"Captain!" she squealed, and promptly wrapped her arms around him, squeezing his face into her chest. He squirmed, knowing that the long period of time she'd gone without doing this would mean a fiercer-than-usual hug and so there was little point resisting. But after a few minutes his lungs started to twinge painfully, so he reached out and prodded her ribs with one reiatsu-covered finger. She released him with a surprised yelp – he hadn't used so much reiatsu as to actually hurt her.

"It is good to see you as well," Hitsugaya said tiredly. And he was telling the truth; after being so long away in such a strange place, it was a relief to be back somewhere familiar. (He couldn't call it _normal_ , as nothing and no one here were similar enough to constitute normalcy.) He set out in a quick pace for the Tenth Division; Matsumoto fell in beside him, her cheerful step causing her breasts to bounce dangerously.

"I haven't told them you're coming," she chirped, and shot a cheeky grin at two men who were staring at her with awed expressions. "I figured you'd like to surprise them."

Toshiro chuckled softly; she knew him too well. Surprise inspections, in his opinion, were much too fun to pass up on. He immediately reigned in his considerable reiatsu, effectively cloaking himself to any Shinigami senses. They wouldn't be able to feel him coming, especially the newbies who hadn't even met him yet. He also adjusted his course so that they would pass through lesser-used streets and avoid going through the front gates – which would essentially be like going Bankai in the middle of the courtyard.

"How have you liked running things?" he asked, ducking his head to hide his face as two Shinigami passed through an intersection up ahead. His Captain's coat would give him away in an instant, but he hoped at this distance they would mistake him for a First Division member.

"It's very quiet," Matsumoto replied, stretching her arms and crossing them behind her head. Toshiro shook his head, looking to the side. "I don't know how you stand it."

Toshiro shot her an incredulous look. "I don't! With you around, it's _never_ quiet."

"I do make things interesting, don't I?"

That, he agreed with full-heartedly.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the back of the Division, having skirted it several streets away. They leapt over the wall, Hitsugaya double-checking his reiatsu before running swiftly along the backsides of the roof while Matsumoto dropped to the ground and made her way to the training grounds, where she'd told him this year's batch of new recruits were gathering for training. Hitsugaya arrived at the training field a couple minutes ahead of her, as he had gone in a roughly straight line, and found a convenient spot to perch that was hidden in the shadows and up out of eye-level and yet gave him a clear view of the field.

When Matsumoto arrived, the recruits clumped together into their assigned companies – each seated officer up to the sixth were given a group of ten recruits to train until they thought the group strong enough to filter into the unseated ranks. Fifth, fourth, and third seats each picked unseated officers of their own choice to train further. These groups were often the most qualified and likely to become seated later on.

There weren't as many recruits as he was used to this year, so only the fifteenth, twelfth, and ninth seats were present with their new units. The two seated officers with second-year recruits had joined in, since two years of experience were hardly better than one, and he would have preferred to see the recruits from three years ago, but oh well. There was nothing he could do about it now.

Matsumoto led them through a basic warm-up routine, then set them to run several laps around the training fields. Toshiro resisted the urge to pull back farther into the shadows, knowing any movement would likely get him caught before they'd even begun. He relaxed when the Shinigami regrouped back in the center of the field, breathing deeply but not struggling for breath. Then the Vice-Captain had them pair off and preform basic offensive/defensive sword maneuvers. She walked amongst them, correcting stances with a firm shove of her foot or rotating their shoulders.

Toshiro watched, noting that one woman consistently led with the wrong foot – _how_ did the instructors at the Academy not notice that? Luckily Matsumoto did, and worked with her for several minutes.

Another newbie, this one a middle-aged man, couldn't seem to remember the pattern of strokes with his sword. His partner attempted to correct him, but only exacerbated the situation. This time their company leader saw the problem and showed the man the correct sequence. Toshiro nodded in satisfaction; at least the seated officers were capable.

After a good half-hour of sword drills, the recruits were divided in half and told to fight until the other team was down. Only zanjutsu was allowed; no maiming or releasing Shikai. This exercise wasn't normally preformed with the first and second year recruits – all too often it ended up with broken bones and an all-out battle royale (which were actually quite fun to watch) – so the seated officers shot puzzled looks amongst themselves before sending the ninth seat to quietly question Matsumoto. Their conversation was short and unsuccessful.

Hitsugaya knew Matsumoto was doing this to give him an opportunity to assess them, and she also knew that he would step in before anyone got seriously hurt. And so he did, only about five minutes into the fight when the two sides drew apart before charging head-on at each other. The tactic was amusing so early on, but usually resulted in bad injuries as the Shinigami in the front fell and were stepped on by their comrades rushing up behind.

Standing off to the side were the company leaders, and they were just about to step in when Toshiro walked up behind them and released just enough of his icy reiatsu to feel like a low-ranked officer. The five seated Shinigami whirled around, eyes wide. "Cap–" one started to exclaim, but he tossed his haori at the man who caught it automatically.

"I'll deal with them," he said, and they fell silent, grinning.

Now without the distinctive coat marking him as a Captain, Hitsugaya was able to easily slip into the fray and start systematically taking them out. A simple pinched nerve here, a sharp jab there, and several were down, temporarily unable to move. They stared at him with shocked expressions, unable to believe that a child had beaten them.

After about ten were immobilized, the rest drew back in a wary circle around him, eyeing him. They clearly didn't know who he was – it was amazing, really, how much a Captain's cloak defined a person instead of their features – and were uncertain how to proceed. Hitsugaya hadn't even unsheathed his sword yet, and stood in a ready position with his arms crossed.

"Um…sir?" one asked, looking over his shoulder at Matsumoto.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go on." She grinned and gestured at Hitsugaya, who shot her an amused glare. His original goal was to get them to stop fighting, but this would work, he supposed.

Still the recruits hesitated. "But he's just a kid," another protested, and his amused look darkened into an expression of deadly calm. He pivoted on one foot to face the woman, who took a step back. He beckoned her forward and she hesitantly complied after glancing back to find her company leader grinning like a Cheshire cat. They all knew what the Captain was doing, and it was a lesson the recruits weren't going to forget anytime soon: _never_ underestimate your opponent.

Especially when said opponent was a Captain in disguise.

The woman lowered her sword and peered down at him. "Aren't you going to draw your sword?" He shook his head, and with another glance behind her, the woman leapt slowly forward, bringing her sword down in a hesitant arc. He dodged easily and stepped past her guard to hook her feet with one of his own and sweep them out from under her; she toppled with a surprised expression, and he put his foot on the flat of her blade to keep it down.

"Hey!" cried an angry voice, and Hitsugaya turned to see a large man shoving his way through the crowd of stunned Shinigami. "Didn't your parents ever teach you that kids should respect their elders?"

Behind him, the company leaders winced. Hitsugaya's eyes narrowed. Within seconds, the man was lying flat on his back, staring dazedly up at the 'kid' who'd knocked him down. There was a minute of silence during which the Shinigami stared in disbelief at the child who had defeated two fully-grown warriors in about a second flat without even using his sword or looking particularly strained. Then a young male muttered a quiet "Damn…" and Matsumoto started laughing.

The recruits backed away from Hitsugaya. Matsumoto caught her breath and said, "Good one, Captain! I think you've sufficiently scared them for today."

Toshiro allowed his mouth to form a pleased smirk. Scared them he certainly had.

The recruits started whispering. "Captain?"

"No way…"

"Seriously?"

Hitsugaya walked up to the seated officers, the unranked Shinigami parting for him to pass through, and shrugged on his haori. "Welcome back, Captain," the twelfth seat said warmly, and he nodded in reply. The crowd parted again for Matsumoto, who took her place beside her Captain. He turned to face the crowd. His gaze focused on the two he had brought down. The man was looking sullen, and the woman seemed like she was still processing everything.

"Never assume an opponent is weaker than you," he said, and the whispers died down. "All too often they will hide their true strength." To show his point, he released his hold on his reiatsu to the point that he normally held it; it'd actually been some time since he had done that, considering he restrained himself at the school.

Behind him, Matsumoto started chuckling again. "This is Captain Hitsugaya," she said, raising her voice. "He is on an extended mission in the World of the Living, but has gotten leave to stay here for two weeks. He wanted to meet you all."

The recruits muttered various greetings, still looking mildly disgruntled at the way he had introduced himself. Well, it wouldn't do any lasting harm. The worst it could do was make them wary of their surroundings and suspicious of other people, which really wasn't a bad thing.

"Right, let's finish this up," Matsumoto announced with a feral grin. "Who wants to be the first to spar with the Captain?"

Horrified looks and a general step back was her only answer. Hitsugaya hid a smirk. It was good to be home.

* * *

"Captain!"

"Captain's back!"

"Captain Hitsugaya!"

The calls trailed him all the way to his office. Word spread quickly that he had returned, and he could hear the news traveling all throughout the Division. No doubt everyone else in Seireitei would know within the hour. Despite his general dislike of having people taking a special interest in him, it did give him a strange, warm feeling inside to see the smiles and hear the happy tones of his subordinates.

His office was surprisingly clean. There was no paperwork on his desk, which he found astonishing. Instead there were two stacks on Matsumoto's desk, one for completed and one still needing a signature. He turned to his Vice-Captain.

"Have you been giving the third seat your paperwork again?"

She laughed nervously, and that was all the answer he needed. He just rolled his eyes and flipped through the completed paperwork on her desk, seeing that it was neatly filled out (and correct, thankfully). He slid the stack off the desk and shifted the whole pile onto one arm. He turned to find Matsumoto watching him curiously.

"I should report to the Head-Captain," he called over his shoulder as he left. She followed him out.

"I'll go tell Hinamori that you're back," Matsumoto said moments before she disappeared. Hs stomach fluttered nervously at the thought. He had only seen his childhood friend a few times since the War, and after three years on a mission…he wasn't sure how their reunion would go.

The First Division was, as usual, orderly, quiet, and shiny. There was an ever-constant smell of fresh paint in the air, as if they went around touching up the walls whenever they got even slightly faded. The Shinigami there generally ignored him as he passed; this behavior was normal for them, so he returned the favor and didn't make a fuss about proper respect.

Vice-Captain Sasakibe seemed to be expecting him, and opened the door to Head-Captain Yamamoto's office when he approached. Hitsugaya nodded a thanks and crossed the large room to the Head-Captain's desk. The old man was writing something, so he waited patiently, well aware that he knew the young Captain was there. At last he set down his brush and looked up.

"Captain Hitsugaya," he rumbled, "you certainly know how to make an entrance. Strange – you always were one of the quiet ones."

Hitsugaya felt a slight blush creep into his cheeks. "Yes sir," he said; a nice, safe reply. Yamamoto eyed him for a minute, then the lines around his eyes and mouth seemed to soften.

"I am sure it will be good for your Division to have you around, even if you can only stay for a couple weeks."

"I hope so, sir."

"Hm. You have papers for me?"

"Yes sir." Toshiro stepped forward and handed them to the older Captain; he took them but barely glanced at them before setting them aside.

"I have read all your reports from the World of the Living. Your progress on tracking down and eliminating this 'Voldemort' has been extremely slow."

Hitsugaya bit his lip. "Yes, sir. There has been little to go on."

Yamamoto was silent for several minutes, and with his eyes the way they were, Hitsugaya was unsure if the old man had fallen asleep. He was considering just leaving when the man spoke again. "Perhaps you need assistance in the castle; someone with fresh eyes."

Toshiro bristled at the suggestion, though he forced his face to stay in its neutral mask. "All due respect, sir, but someone new would just create more problems than they would solve. Voldemort will show himself eventually; when he does I will be ready for him."

This was true, but it was not the main reason for his reluctance to bring in someone new. There were few people who could pose as a student at Hogwarts. And by few, he meant Vice-Captain Kusajishi Yachiru. The thought of the little she-devil running around a castle with magic and an unlimited supply of sweets was enough to make him want to hide in a corner and never come out.

"Be sure you are," Yamamoto rumbled.

Hitsugaya had been a Captain long enough to recognize a dismissal when he heard one. He bowed and left the office. On the way back to his Division he met Captain Ukitake, who immediately smiled and reached into his sleeve. Hitsugaya mentally prepared himself.

"It's been too long!" Ukitake cried, and shoved a large bag of candy into the younger Captain's hands. "How is your mission? Have you been making friends?"

They were in the middle of a street, and the Shinigami nearby turned to stare. A glare from Hitsugaya was enough to get them running. Gritting his teeth, he replied, "I have yet to complete my mission, Captain Ukitake, and I have no need to make friends of the living."

"Really?" The glint in the white-haired Captain's eye made Hitsugaya nervous. It looked much too mischievous to be anything good. "Your Vice-Captain says that you've had a wonderful time."

"Has she?" Toshiro groaned. He was going to kill her.

"Mm-hm!" Ukitake hummed and patted Hitsugaya on the shoulder. "Well, I'm sure you've got work to do, so I'll leave you be now. Have a good day!" With that, he left a fuming Captain Hitsugaya behind.

* * *

His wish to violently murder his Vice-Captain and scatter her remains all over the Seireitei went unfulfilled. He would never do it, in any case, but one could dream. Instead, he was kept busy with paperwork and spending time among his subordinates. Matsumoto's report that they were beginning to think he had abandoned them was worrying – did they really trust him so little? Or were they just afraid of being Captainless just like they had for years after Captain Shiba disappeared? Either way, it seemed that his presence even for just two weeks was enough to soothe the Division's frazzled nerves.

His meeting with Hinamori went well. It was extremely awkward at first, as the last Hitsugaya had seen of her was when she was blaming him for stabbing her (of which he still felt pangs of guilt strong enough to keep him awake all night), and she could sense his unease. They talked for a half-hour in the office after he had kicked Matsumoto out, and when he had watched Hinamori leave, he had an unsettling urge to run after her and tell her about the boggart. But he didn't. She didn't need that kind of guilt. (Because she was the type of person to take guilt upon herself, even if what happened wasn't her fault.)

His winter break back in Soul Society felt entirely too fast. He knew he would have to go back once the break was over, but now that he had had a taste of his regular life, he didn't want to leave. It was a struggle to get up the last Sunday and drag himself down to the Senkaimon. Matsumoto came with him to say goodbye.

"Come back soon, Captain," she said, hugging him surprisingly gently. "We've all missed you these past few years."

He knew she was telling the truth – she did miss him, but he wasn't so sure about the others. "I'll try to finish this as soon as I can," he replied. Picking up his suitcase (which was still shrunk) and slipping it into his pocket, he gave a last nod to his Vice-Captain and walked into the Senkaimon.

He startled a cat when he came back into the Living World. It was black, and reminded him of Yoruichi. It also crossed his path, and although he didn't subscribe to the humans' silly superstitions, he thought about adopting them when he took one step and put his foot into a mud puddle.

What a great start to the new year.

* * *

The train trip back to Hogwarts was surprisingly calm. He managed to get to the station early enough that he could find an empty compartment, lock the door, and charm it shut when anyone tried to open it. He spent the trip stretched out on one of the padded seats, reading a book. He'd managed to do some research while he was home, and had come up with something he thought would help Harry meditate.

He had released Athena before he got on the train so that she could fly to Hogwarts on her own. Or anywhere she wanted, really. He felt slightly bad that he had been essentially ignoring her for the past two years.

During the carriage ride he unfortunately had to share one with other students – three sixth years and two seventh years. One of them kept staring absently at Toshiro, which made him uncomfortable, but he recognized the signs of someone simply zoning out, considering most of the Captains' minds wandered during meetings. He was guilty of that himself; sometimes, with the heat of the Head-Captain's reiatsu lulling him to sleep and the old man's voice a rumbling background, he just couldn't force himself to pay attention.

He patted the thestral after the carriage stopped; the other students gave him weird looks, which he ignored.

Toshiro could instantly tell that the Firebolt incident hadn't yet blown over the second he walked into the Great Hall and saw Harry and Ron sitting together and Hermione off by herself. He sighed. He had been hoping that McGonagall would have been done with whatever testing she wished to subject the broom to and that the Trio would have made up by the time he returned. _Stubborn humans._

He seated himself in the middle of the three, not willing to make a stand with either side just yet. Whatever happened, he was determined to stay neutral.

The food was, as usual, quite extravagant. Unfortunately for Toshiro, he'd lost whatever tolerance he had gained over the first term for English food by spending winter break in the Soul Society. Therefore he satisfied himself with a rice dish and tea. It was black. He didn't like black tea. He drank green tea.

As a going-away present, several of the seated officers had shown up in his office the day before he had left and presented him with a blue thermos stylized with the words _World's Best Captain_ written on it. He was physically unable to get mad at them for spending the Division's money on unnecessary items, and thanked them with a rare twitch that was interpreted as either a muscle spasm or a smile.

The tea crisis continued the next morning at breakfast in the Great Hall. Upon taking a sip of the offending liquid and finding it lacking, Toshiro stood up to pay a personal visit to the kitchens when he was almost knocked over by Oliver Wood. The seventh-year was on a mission, and marched up to the head table to stand before Professor McGonagall with his arms crossed. The resulting argument was entertaining enough for Toshiro to loiter around the Gryffindor table. Sadly, all McGonagall did was tell Wood in no uncertain terms that if he kept bugging her about the broom, she would keep it until the Quidditch season ended, and that if he wanted Harry to fly on a Firebolt in the meantime, he was welcome to go out and spend his own money on buying a new one. Wood walked away muttering, and Toshiro let for the kitchens.

He felt slightly bad for asking the house-elves to make a fresh pot of green tea for him when they already had so much to do during the breakfast rush, but they assured him that they were perfectly happy to serve him, and soon set about gathering leaves and steeping them in hot water. He sat down in a corner to keep out of the way while he was waiting. Everything in the kitchens was scaled down to the house-elves' size, so he felt out of place and more than a little ridiculous in the miniscule chair he claimed.

His attention was diverted from the scene of a house-elf balancing three plates on each arm when he heard what could only be defined as a _squeak_. Looking around the surprisingly-clean kitchen, Hitsugaya saw nothing that could have produced the sound. He shrugged it off and returned to watching the house-elves work.

"Here, Master Toe-she-row," one of the elves said, drawing his attention to one of the small creatures standing before him holding a large kettle and making him wince at the name. He had forgotten to switch his names around in the Western custom when he introduced himself to the house-elves, and as a result was unable to convince them that Toshiro was his personal name and Hitsugaya was his surname. They were also unable to pronounce it, resulting in the unfortunate butchering.

"Thank you," he replied, and reached out to take the handle of the kettle, but the elf moved it out of his reach.

"If you have a container, sir, I would be more than happy to pour it in for you."

"That's fine, I can do it myself," Toshiro said, but the elf wasn't giving up.

"I insist, Master Toe-she-row. It would be my honor to serve you."

 _That's…slightly disturbing,_ Toshiro thought, but relented. He produced his new thermos from his bag and set it on the counter while the house-elf levitated the kettle up and tilted it, the hot liquid steaming as it flowed down into the thermos. He held the container still during the procedure, and was occupied with making sure none of the tea missed the opening and scalded his hand, so he didn't see another house-elf wearing a stained bed-sheet carrying a large pot of sauce collide with the elf levitating the kettle. Distracted, the elf's magic flickered, causing the kettle to wobble and topple over onto the counter. Toshiro hissed as the tea caught his hand and instantly turned his skin red before he yanked it away.

With the chaos of two house-elves stammering apologies, attempting to mop up the spreading water, and holding his hand under the tap (he would apply healing Kido later), no one noticed that the water had splashed onto an upside-down metal bowl with hundreds of tiny holes dotting it, under which a certain rat had just gotten burned quite severely. The poor creature squeaked and attempted to climb the sides of the bowl in an effort to escape the pain. All his struggling caused the bowl to slide across the slippery counter and clang onto the floor. He crawled, stunned, away from the site of the impact and managed to slip under the crack of the door, all unnoticed.

Meanwhile, Toshiro had managed to convince the house-elves that he was fine, manually pour the rest of the tea into the thermos, and escape, apologies and worried elves trailing along behind him. The warning bell rang, signaling five minutes until the start of the first class of the day, and he cursed and picked up the pace. Healing Kido would just have to wait until after Potions.

Luck was really not on his side that day, as he arrived to class three minutes late, lost five points, and then had to brew a complicated potion all while his hand was throbbing painfully. To make matters worse, it was his right hand: the hand he used primarily in most chores of daily life. The burns were making it difficult to move his fingers without hurting, so he was forced to use his left hand. The potion was one of the worst he had ever made, and Snape informed him with a sneer that he would be making up. He sighed and took the first opportunity outside of class to heal himself.

At least he got his green tea.

* * *

The beauty of a thermos was that it could keep hot liquids hot and cold liquids cold. Combined with a stasis charm, it was practically unbeatable. Toshiro didn't mind spending an hour outside in the January air and trudging through knee-high snow, but that little warmth the hot tea provided just felt too good to resist. They were supposed to be collecting dry wood and leaves for kindling in a large fire that Hagrid had built up for fire-loving salamanders, but where they were supposed to get dry wood under snow was anyone's guess. They mostly stood huddled around the fire.

(Toshiro, having had enough of burning to last him the rest of his long lifetime – deathtime? – stood back and sipped his tea.)

Divination was never, and would never be an enjoyable class. Professor Trelawney was now teaching them to read palms, and so she spent the first lesson going around to each student to demonstrate how. She tutted over Hermione's hand, shook her head sadly over Neville's and gave him a consolatory pat on the head (he spent the rest of the lesson trying desperately to see what she had read), told Harry he had the shortest life line she had ever seen, and moved on to Toshiro. He was reluctant to let her touch him, but obligingly held out his hand.

He had picked up some memory modifier back home, and now was armed with it in his bag. If she said anything too close for comfort he was prepared. (That was assuming anyone would actually believe her; the idea that she was a true Seer was laughable.)

She frowned over his hand for a long time, long enough that the other students stared whispering and shooting him curious looks. "When am I going to meet my horrible death?" Toshiro drawled, wanting to get this over and done with.

Trelawney drew back away from him, studied him for a minute, then leaned forward and grabbed his chin in her hand and tilted his head to the side. "Stop that!" Toshiro batted her hand away and stood, more than a little creeped out and wanting to take a shower.

"I have never seen anything like you before," Trelawney murmured, eyes gazing at him intensely and absently at the same time. "You are different." She moved forward again and stretched out a hand to place it on his chest; he ducked away and snatched up his bag.

"That's it, I'm leaving!" He wasn't about to stay somewhere with a woman who invaded his personal space and endangered his secret. Glaring at her, he descended the ladder and set a quick pace down the tower.

He didn't like people touching him – that was a well-known fact. Part of it stemmed from Matsumoto's constant battle to suffocate him in her chest – something he only tolerated because it was a comforting ritual of regularity – but it likely originated from his time in the Rukongai. The villagers there were…unsavory folk, to say the least.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the girl coming up behind him until she spoke. "Are you okay?"

Toshiro whirled around to see Hermione a few steps away at a cautious distance watching him carefully. He nodded and continued down the stairs. "I'm fine. What are you doing here? Class doesn't end for another half-hour."

Hermione shrugged and fell into step beside him – still a firm distance away. "I've never liked Divination. I'm going to drop it."

Toshiro nodded in agreement; they had Transfiguration tomorrow, and he was planning on going early to tell McGonagall about his change in schedule.

The two made their way back to the Gryffindor Tower; with all the children at class, there was no one there. Toshiro pulled out everything he had related to Divination and one-by-one, methodically burned them. There was a strange satisfaction in seeing the papers blacken and curl and crumble to ashes. Hermione watched him for a few minutes, eyes wide and clearly unsure what to do. Then she joined him by the fireplace and tossed in her supplies.

When the evidence of their jaunt into arson disappeared into the Gryffindor fire, they used their Time-Turners to go back an hour, and were just in time for Muggle Studies. Toshiro sat in the back and was quiet throughout the whole lesson.

Lunch was next. It was an unpleasant mush of whispers and stares and greasy, fatty English foods. He stayed for only a brief amount of time; enough that he was cornered by no less than three people asking him if Professor Trelawney really had a crush on him. The thought was enough to make him gag.

He had a free period just before Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he spent it reading the book he had brought from the Tenth's library. While nowhere near as comprehensive as the Archives or even the Twelfth's logs, his was useful enough that he didn't have to trudge all the way across the city to go retrieve a book on how to fix a leaky tap.

Professor Lupin had warned them that he would be testing them on the creatures they had studied so far throughout the year, and judging by the groans from most of the students, they had forgotten about it. Even Toshiro had forgotten about it, and stared at the first question with a blank look. Oh well. Time for pulling answers out of his–

"Professor Lupin?"

Every student in the class turned in their seats to stare at Professor Flitwick. The small Charms teacher smiled apologetically at them. "I'll be short. Can I have a quick word?"

"Of course," Lupin replied, and the two teachers disappeared out into the corridor, the door open but a silencing charm muffling their conversation. Toshiro turned back to his paper.

 _What do hinkypunks eat and how do they hunt their prey?_

Did they even cover that? Toshiro couldn't remember. All he knew was that they lured humans into bogs and…well, ate them, he supposed. Smirking, he dipped his quill into the inkpot. Oh, he could give Lupin _such_ a detailed description. Even if all of it was complete crap that he dredged up from the depths of his mind. He could feel Hyourinmaru watching him write, and occasionally chipped in with such a _creative_ suggestion that Toshiro knew he truly was part of his own soul.

The professors reentered the classroom and Lupin sat behind his desk with a frown, wrote something on a scrap of parchment, and handed it to Flitwick. "That'll do it, I believe."

Flitwick inspected whatever was written then nodded. "Thank you, Remus," he called over his shoulder as he left. Toshiro, having chosen that unfortunate moment to take a drink of water, felt it come rushing back up his throat. He hacked into his sleeve, ignoring the snickers from the other students.

 _Whenever we ran from teachers, needed a place to plan pranks in peace, if we couldn't get Remus here on time, when we were making the map…_

"Are you all right?"

The concerned voice came from right beside him, and he couldn't help the slight flinch or tensing when Lupin touched him on the shoulder to gain his attention. The professor immediately drew his hand away, clearly taken aback by his student's reaction.

"I'm fine," Toshiro managed, staring at Lupin. Inside, he was furious. _What kind of fool hires a_ werewolf _to_ live _at a school and teach_ children _?!_

 _Dumbledore, that's who – oh, what a_ great _wizard he is, the old coot. Never mind the ramifications if he attacks a student; just_ how _is this legal? Doesn't the Ministry… No, they're useless idiots too, if they allowed Dementors to guard a school… This whole society is a bunch of crackpots. The fools… They don't even know how to live in the Muggle world… Idiots… They think they're so high and mighty… Just wait until a Muggle kills a wizard with a gun._ The though made him chuckle darkly, drawing cautious looks. By now Lupin had returned to his desk. _If they had just shot Voldemort when they had the chance, they would have ended the war in a second._

The rest of the class was spent muttering incoherent thoughts on just what this world would come to.

Letting a werewolf teach children… _Yes, that_ is _a good idea, Headmaster, I'm_ sure _the parents of the kids he bites will be understanding._ What could _possibly_ go wrong?


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Toshiro handed in his paper once the class was over, refusing to meet Lupin's concerned gaze. He was walking out of the class to meet up with Hermione, who had gotten out first and was now sitting at the feet of a suit of armor repacking her bag, when they heard Ron's voice up ahead. With the amount of books in there, he doubted it would close without splitting at the seams.

"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" the red-head asked. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?"

Hermione made a loud, impatient sound, not even looking up from her bag. Ron and Harry stopped. "What are you on about now?"

Toshiro rolled his eyes; yes, well done, Mr. Weasley. _That_ is how you speak to the girl who has repeatedly saved your grades and hide for the past two and a half years. Well done indeed.

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione asked, adopting the look she had unconsciously developed for those she considered supreme dolts.

"Oh, you're just trying to get us to talk to you again," Ron dismissed, and continued walking. Harry shot Hermione an uncomfortable look but followed his friend.

Toshiro moved up to stand beside Hermione after they left. She was staring after them with a mix of longing, annoyance, and genuine astonishment. "Just wait until they need help on their homework," he sighed. "Then they'll be on their hands and knees."

The girl huffed, hiked her bag higher up on her shoulder, and set off in the opposite direction of the Great Hall. "I'm going to put this in the dorms before dinner. It's so heavy!"

"You could try putting less books in," Toshiro suggested mildly. Hermione scoffed, and the Shinigami eyed her for a minute, weighing his options. Better to butter her up first, he decided. "You know," he started, and she looked over at him expectantly, "a feather-light charm would fix the weight. Or an undetectable extension charm."

She whirled to face him, eyes wide. "Hitsugaya! The extension charm is heavily controlled by the Ministry!" Wincing, Toshiro cast a silencing charm around them then glared at her.

"Which is why, when one offers to place it, the other does not go shouting about it in the middle of a hallway."

Hermione had the grace to look sheepish. "Right. Sorry."

 **"Honestly,"** Toshiro muttered, rubbing his temples and switching over to Japanese, **"what is it with the female race?"**

"Um, hello?" Hermione waved a hand in front of his face, which he promptly smacked away. "English, please."

"Come on." He turned and set a quick pace down the hall. She hurried to catch up. "So, do you want one or not?" Seeing her hesitant expression, he amended, "Or, if it makes you uncomfortable, I can just cast a feather-light charm."

"I'd prefer that," she responded instantly. He hummed.

Once they reached the common room, which was deserted given the time, he sat on the couch and placed her bag on his lap. Remembering what he had done for his own bag, he tapped it with the tip of his wand, murmuring the incantation. The weight abruptly disappeared. Satisfied, he tossed it to Granger, whose surprised expression when she caught it made him laugh.

"Did you not expect it to work?" he asked, slipping his wand back into his boot and leaning back into the couch. Despite his reservations of the Wizarding World, they really did know how to live comfortably.

"No…"

"Mm-hm." Toshiro tilted his head back and half-closed his eyes, watching her surreptitiously. His relaxed posture was deliberate: collected enough to show that he was listening and sprawling to insinuate a casual openness. "So, about Professor Lupin…"

Her sudden, full-body tense did not go unnoticed. "What about him?"

"From your words earlier, I suppose you have figured out what he is?"

"I don't understand." She started fiddling with a strap on her bag. Toshiro stayed silent, still studying her. He knew she didn't like uncomfortable silences which often permeated conversations, and if he let it draw out she would be the first to crack. He was right. "Well… Maybe if you tell me what you think he is, I'll say if I think so too."

Acceptable. He spread his senses to make sure no one was near before speaking. It wouldn't do to have someone walk in on them now. "He is a werewolf."

Hermione collapsed bonelessly into her chair. "Yes! I'm not the only one!"

"What?" Toshiro opened his eyes.

"I thought I was the only one to notice," the girl rambled. "After the boggart, and all the time's he's been sick, then Snape assigned us that essay on werewolves, and…yeah."

And now Toshiro felt like an idiot for not noticing before. She was right – the signs were all there, and somehow he'd missed them. With a sigh, he sank further into the couch. Oh well. He wasn't a native of the Wizarding World – that's why he hadn't noticed. Yes, that's why.

 _"Neither is she,"_ a certain ice dragon rumbled in the back of his mind. Toshiro ignored him.

A voice broke into his musing. "Wait, how did you find out?"

Gazing over at her, Toshiro was tempted to take the easy way out and just lie. So much easier… But no. He already had so many lies he was juggling; one more might finally make his brain explode. He sighed. "Sirius Black told me."

"Sirius Black? How does he know? When did he… Why'd he… But – _how_ does he know?"

"He was a Marauder," Toshiro answered. No way was he trying to keep up with her; he was going at his own pace, her curiousness be damned. "He and Lupin were two of the four who made Harry's map – the Marauder's Map."

"The one that shows all the ways out of the castle," Hermione murmured. Then she shot up and bolted for the door. Toshiro, startled by the movement, was slow in responding.

"Wait! What are you doing?"

"If Harry can get out, _he_ can get in!"

"Yes, but– Oh hell," Toshiro muttered, and executed a quick, short shunpo to get in front of her. She tried to skid to a halt and ended up sliding right into him. He staggered back a step and grabbed her arms firmly before she could run away again. "Granger. Granger, _listen to me_!"

The harsh tone of voice seemed to work, as she froze and looked up at him. He lowered his voice so the paintings couldn't hear. "He is not going to come in. He has no reason to."

"But Harry is–" Toshiro cut her off.

"Black is not after Potter. I've told you this."

"I know, but…the teachers…"

"They have not talked to him." Toshiro tightened his grip. "Do you trust me?" She gazed at him, meeting his eyes before biting her lip and nodding. "Then trust my judgement. Black is not here to hurt Potter."

The instant she relaxed and started to pull away, someone cleared their throat. The two leapt away from each other, only now just realizing how close they had been. Faces burning, they turned to face Professor McGonagall, who was watching them with no small amount of amusement.

"Professor Trelawney tells me you two have decided to drop her class," she said. They nodded mutely. "I will allow this, but only if the reason is not so that you two can have more time alone together."

Sputtering, they immediately started to deny that, but McGonagall only shook her head with a smile. "Your schedules will be fixed immediately." She left, leaving behind two red-faced teens. Hermione groaned and sank to the ground, burying her face in her hands. Toshiro felt like doing the same.

* * *

 _Clunk._

Toshiro stood in front of a door on the second floor, arms crossed and feet planted firmly.

 _Scrape._

He had been standing here for several minutes now, ever since he had heard noises from inside the room while walking past. Dinner was just about to start, so there should be no one in there.

 _Moan._

Toshiro winced. He didn't know _what_ was going on in there, but he was regretting ever stopping. Going in? Hah!

 _Grunt._

Oh, Matsumoto was going to kill him for this, if she ever found out. He could just hear her rant now. _"Captain, why didn't you give them privacy? Really, what were you expecting to do? Just barge right on in there and break them apart? Really?"_

Despite his looks and the fact that he was (regrettably) still a child in Soul Society terms, he was far from an innocent kid. _Oh_ , no. No, he was _far_ outside the range of having innuendos fly over his head. Being a Captain did that to you.

 _Squeak._

And _that_ was why he was still standing there awkwardly in the hall, just staring at the door. Noises that would be made from people…nope. Not even going to think it.

He should go in there. He really should. It was his duty, as a Shinigami, to protect humans' souls from…

 _Rustle._

On second thought, the souls could fend for themselves.

Decision made, he turned away to hurriedly beat a retreat when he heard a loud clunk and a string of muffled curses come from inside the room. Hitsugaya frowned and turned back. _No teenager knows that… Hell, even_ I _didn't know some of those._ Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and cracked open the door, peering inside. Then he pushed it all the way open.

There was no one in here.

Correction. There was no _human_ in here.

Toshiro shut the door behind him and stretched out his senses. There it was. The dark reiatsu that tumbled over and over on itself. An Animagus. A small one.

He took silent, measured steps towards the desk, under which he could sense what could only be Peter Pettigrew in his rat form. Now that he was listening for it, he could hear terrified squeaks and scratches.

"Scabbers?" he called, hoping to instill some false trust in the rat. "Is that you, Scabbers?"

The squeaks paused for the briefest of moments before redoubling. Toshiro smirked and rounded the desk, looking down at the twitching creature huddled in the corner before dropping to his knees and extending one hand. He really hoped the rat wouldn't bite – this would be _so_ hard to explain to Unohana.

"Sh," he murmured in what he hoped was a soothing tone, "I won't hurt you."

The blatant lie seemed to pacify the rat, for it uncurled and peered up at him. He had to resist shivering; those eyes were not animal. They had a distinctly human awareness to them, even through a haze of pain and fear and hunger. One of its back legs was held awkwardly, and the rat limped badly as it made its way over to the kneeling Shinigami.

"That's it," Toshiro breathed in a tone he'd learned from Matsumoto. "It's all right. Come here."

Scabbers – Peter Pettigrew – crawled onto Toshiro's hand and snuggled against his chest when the Captain drew it back. Despite wanting to wrap it in several layers of plastic – he just _knew_ the thing had fleas – Toshiro stood and walked calmly to the door, opening it with one hand and slipping out. He would go to Black and allow him to force the Animagus into his human form, stop Black from killing him (or not, depending on his mood), and go from there.

"Weasley's been looking all over for you," he said to the rat in his arms. "He thinks Crookshanks ate you. Actually, everyone does."

The rat shivered and drew closer to him. Unseen by the creature, Toshiro wrinkled his nose in disgust. He couldn't believe he was _carrying_ a man and _soothing_ him. To be fair, he didn't want the rat to run off before Black could force him to switch, but still. It was the principle of the matter.

He couldn't believe his luck. He _had_ thought Crookshanks had eaten Pettigrew. For once he was glad to be proved wrong.

Turning a corner, Toshiro almost walked headlong into Professor Lupin. He stepped quickly to the side. "Apologies, Professor."

"None needed, Hitsugaya." Lupin smiled at him, bags prominent under his eyes. "What do you have there?"

"A rat," Toshiro responded, then realized how stupid he'd just been. They _were both Marauders_! Oh, he was an idiot. Of course Lupin would recognize Pettigrew and vice-versa. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

"A rat?" Lupin said, bemused, his gaze lowering to the creature in Hitsugaya's arms. His eyes widened in shock. "It can't be."

Time for some lying. "He's Scabbers, Weasley's pet," Toshiro explained, shifting his arms to cover the rat. This was bad, very bad. "He's been missing for a while now."

"He has," Lupin agreed, still staring at the rat. Shifting the briefcase he was holding into his other hand, he reached into his sleeve and pulled out his wand. Toshiro blinked at the sight of it. Surely he wasn't going to attack…right? "Mr. Hitsugaya, if you wouldn't mind, I'll take him to Madam Pomfrey to get him checked out. He looks ill."

Not good. "That is very kind of you," Toshiro replied, "but she isn't a veterinarian. I wouldn't want to bother her for something like this."

"Oh, it's no bother." Lupin's eyes were still fixed on the rat. "In fact, I'm heading down that way. I could take him for you."

As Toshiro sought for something to say, his grip tightened on Pettigrew, who'd gone to sleep. At the change in pressure, the rat woke, yawned, and looked sleepily around. His whole body went tense when he saw Lupin. Toshiro opened his mouth to respond when the rat gave an almighty squeak and dove from his arms, sailing under Lupin's legs and darting down the hall. The professor cursed and spun after it.

"Professor!" Toshiro called, surprised. This was supposed to be his friend, the one that his other friend killed. Why wasn't he happy to see him?

"Get him!" Lupin shouted back, running after Pettigrew, whose injured back leg didn't seem to bother him in his frantic dash. Heaving a sigh, Toshiro followed. _I need that rat!_

"Why are you after him? He's just a rat," Toshiro asked, quickly catching up to the teacher. Lupin barely glanced at him. His wand was still raised, although Pettigrew had a fair lead on them and the teacher evidently didn't want to shoot off stunning spells inside halls wherever a student might suddenly appear.

"I'll tell you later. For now, just help me catch him."

Evasion if he'd ever heard it. Honestly, how stupid did Lupin think he was? Still, they had a common goal, and he could use the help to catch Pettigrew.

They chased the rat down a flight of stairs and through long hallways. It was a strange sight, a professor carrying a briefcase and a white-haired student running after a rat with their wands raised. Then Toshiro looked around and saw where they were at the same time Lupin realized the same thing.

"He's going outside! We can't let him get away!"

Toshiro was really starting to doubt the two's friendship. Did Pettigrew steal Lupin's girlfriend or something? Why was he so anxious to catch the rat?

There was one more turn left before the back door. Lupin muttered something under his breath and lengthened his stride, only to pull up short as a group of fifth-years turned the corner, chattering in a large pack. Toshiro leapt to the side and continued running as Lupin was forced to slide around the group with his back to the wall. "Professor?" one of the girls asked curiously. Lupin ignored her.

Now ahead of the teacher, Toshiro exited the castle and took a minute to catch his breath from the impromptu sprint and stretch his senses. There! He turned and vaulted off the raised walkway, one hand pivoting on the railing. He landed in a crouch and took off running.

"Whoa," he vaguely heard Lupin mumble. Then the werewolf's steps continued.

It was late in the evening, and the descending darkness was obscuring everything more than a few feet away, making it difficult to see. Toshiro was relying on his mental map of the castle grounds and his senses to follow Pettigrew. He could hear Lupin falling farther and farther behind, though not as far as he expected a human to be. Perhaps his werewolf genes gave him better night vision?

 _"Bush!"_ Hyourinmaru suddenly called, and Toshiro gathered his legs up under him as he jumped, feeling the scratch of branches.

"Thanks," he replied, too distracted to say it mentally.

Hitsugaya was so focused on running and keeping track of the rat that he barely noticed another of the odd, tumbling reiatsu heading their way. It was only when a large black blur threw itself into his path did he note the new presence. "Damn," he cursed. He had hoped to question Pettigrew without Black present.

As it was, the dog had pinned down the rat with one heavy paw on his tail; Pettigrew squeaked and twisted in a desperate attempt to get away. Black leaned down, growling deep in his throat.

Toshiro jogged the last few paces and warily approached the snarling hound. "Hey," he said cautiously. One of Black's ears twitched in his direction. "You want to let him go and I'll stun him?"

At this the rat squeaked loudly, evidently expecting the Shinigami to help him. Well, tough luck. Black didn't appear to be in a generous mood, and Toshiro was mostly planning on giving him to the Ministry. If what Black said was true, then Pettigrew was not going to receive a warm welcome.

Black growled again. "Um, hello?" Toshiro asked, edging forward.

" _Stupefy_!"

A red beam of light shot over Toshiro's shoulder and hit Black squarely on his flank; the dog yelped and promptly collapsed. Pettigrew squeaked piteously at the sudden weight.

Meanwhile, Toshiro, having thrown himself to the ground in case of any more spells coming uncomfortably close, spun around and aimed his wand into the darkness only to lower it once Lupin stepped into view, still clutching his briefcase. "Step away from the dog," Lupin ordered, setting down his briefcase and advancing, his eyes fixed on the pile of fur behind Toshiro.

"Professor, why did you–"

"Get away from him," Lupin said lowly. "He is dangerous."

Toshiro made a split-second decision to throw his lot in with Black. He really didn't have anything to lose – his memory modifier was in his pocket, and if all else failed, he could _Obliviate_ the professor. Never mind the fact that he'd never performed that spell before; what was a lifetime of memories to a man's freedom?

He really hoped Lupin wouldn't try to attack.

"Professor, he's innocent."

Lupin halted his advance and turned raised eyebrows to the Shinigami. "Excuse me?"

"He didn't…" Toshiro's hand slipped into his pocket and touched the memory modifier. "Black didn't kill those people. He didn't betray Potter James or Potter Lily." He paused for a breath. "Pettigrew killed them and framed Black."

Lupin's confused expression turned incredulous. "And how do _you_ know all that?"

"He told me." Toshiro pointed behind him at the stunned hound. Pettigrew had gone silent, but Toshiro could still sense his reiatsu underneath the dog.

"He told you," Lupin repeated softly. He shook his head. "He lied."

"Did he, really? Then why is Pettigrew still alive? Why did he run from you, when most people would be happy to see their friends after coming back from the dead? What motive did Black have to betray the Potters?"

Black had told Hitsugaya everything about that night one day when he was feeling particularly depressed. He had talked and talked about changing the Secret Keeper and hiding, about hearing the news and flying to Godric's Hollow on his motorcycle; he spoke about finding James and Lily dead and baby Harry scarred. He told Toshiro of his blind rage upon realizing that Peter had betrayed his best friend to the Dark Lord, and of going to confront him. Their fight and Peter's spell and his subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban – he told him everything. Toshiro was surprised and a little irritated at Black's willingness to talk to a complete stranger, but at least he had useful information.

Toshiro came out of his thoughts to find that Lupin's wand was pointed at him, and the teacher had a sad look on his tired face. "He has you under the Imperius," he said softly. "I will release you from it."

"No he doesn't."

Lupin wasn't listening. " _Finite Incantatem_."

Toshiro tensed, not sure what to expect, but all that happened was a slight tingling over his body as Lupin's magic enveloped him, then…nothing. He didn't feel any different. He opened his eyes to find Lupin looking at him in surprise.

"He's still innocent," Toshiro insisted.

Instead of saying something, Lupin again muttered a spell and pointed his wand at Toshiro; the tingling of magic washed over him, but nothing happened. Lupin frowned, looking like he wanted to try again, when Hitsugaya held up his hands.

"I solemnly swear that Black does not have me under the Imperius." He just couldn't resist, and the flustered look on the teacher's face was worth the brief bout of childishness.

"He told you everything?" Lupin asked, looking extremely nervous. Toshiro instantly knew what he was asking; the teacher's whole life revolved around the single fact of what he was, and now a (in his mind) thirteen-year-old child knew.

"He told me much," Toshiro evaded. "We should probably talk later. But for now we should get Black and Pettigrew to the Shack."

Nodding, Lupin stepped warily past the Shinigami to awaken Black. Toshiro stunned Pettigrew, holding him out of reach when Black regained his senses. "We are going to talk in the Shrieking Shack," Lupin told the dog firmly. Black looked at him, Toshiro, and Lupin again. Then he turned in the direction of the Whomping Willow.

* * *

"So, what are you going to do?"

Lupin and Hitsugaya stared at the small, overweight man sprawled unconscious on the bedroom floor of the Shrieking Shack. Black was perched tensely on the edge of the lumpy couch, bouncing his knee up and down in a nervous fervor. Lupin was sitting on the rickety chair with the uneven legs, and Toshiro was leaning against the doorframe with his wand held loosely in one hand.

Lupin stirred at the question, shifting his weight and sending one leg thumping down. "I guess we should tell Dumbledore," he answered. "He'll tell the Ministry, and…they'll handle the rest."

"So you believe me?" Black looked relieved. Lupin regarded him with his tired eyes, then ran a hand down his face.

"I don't – I do, but – I…we've all spent years – over a decade – believing that you betrayed James and Lily and killed those people. It's not going to be easy…"

"I understand. But now that we've got Peter, I can go free."

Toshiro listened to the conversation but kept his opinions to himself, preferring to watch and study. Black seemed remarkably calm about the proceedings, when just a few months before he was breaking into castles in order to kill a rat. Lupin, hunched and weary, was still probably in a daze about the whole thing. He'd just learned that one friend was alive, a Death Eater, and a murderer, and the one who'd originally killed that friend was mostly sane and innocent. It was a lot to take in.

" _Merlin_ , I just can't believe it." Lupin shook his head and stared down at Pettigrew. "Why would he do that? He _killed_ …"

Black shook his head, unable to supply an answer. Toshiro could. "He is a human," he said simply, and the two adults' gazes lifted to him. "Humans make mistakes."

"You think what he did was a _mistake_?" Black asked, incredulous. He gestured at the unconscious Animagus. "Betraying James and Lily, the Muggles, locking _me_ in Azkaban was a _mistake_?!"

"Sirius…"

"Yes," Toshiro replied, and watched as Black rose from his seat, furious. Lupin stood and visibly restrained him. "It was a mistake. What do you call it?"

"Betrayal! Murder! _Lying_!"

"Sirius, calm down." Lupin pressed firmly on Black's shoulders, forcing him to sit down. Dust puffed up around them, particles swirling around the globes of light Lupin and Hitsugaya had conjured. The globes shone with a harsh light, creating sharp edges and casting deep shadows. "He's just a kid. He doesn't understand."

Hitsugaya bristled at this. "Really? Would a _kid_ work with Black to catch the real culprit instead of freezing in fear at the sight of him? Would a _kid_ not care that you are a werewolf? Would a _kid_ have a boggart like _I_ do? Tell me, Professor Lupin, why I do not understand the situation. As I see it, the situation is very clear. What don't I understand about it, since I am just a _kid_ and you are adults and therefore all-knowing?"

The two adults stared at Toshiro, who closed his eyes and took a moment to collect himself. When he opened his eyes, the turquoise of his irises were glowing unnaturally in the fake light. "That was uncalled for," he said softly.

"It was," Lupin muttered. "You will forgive us if we debase the opinion of a thirteen-year-old child, no matter what his experience may be." His voice took on a distinctly dry tone that Toshiro had learned to identify as sarcasm.

"You do not know what my experience is," Toshiro drawled, the dragon in his soul stirring.

"Maybe you should tell us," Black said, eyes glittering. "After all, you know much more about us than we do about you."

"And whose fault is that?" Lupin scoffed into Black's ear. The dog Animagus shook him off.

"Go on, tell us," he egged. "What 'experience' do you have?" Toshiro watched him coolly.

"More than I know where to start." He slid his eyes over to Lupin. "Where do you think my boggart came from? Nightmares conjured up by television?" Black's face scrunched up in confusion. Lupin barely twitched. "Bedtime stories gone awry? Please."

Hyourinmaru, by now fully awake and watching the scene through Toshiro's eyes, rumbled warningly. Toshiro soothed him mentally, not breaking eye contact with the older man. "The boggart…did it really happen?"

"No," Toshiro replied, eyes darkening. "That is why it is my greatest fear."

A heavy silence fell upon the three, broken only when a loud groan snapped their concentration like so many fragile bones. Black's lip curled at Pettigrew while Lupin lifted his wand, murmuring something so that thin golden ropes curled out the tip of it and bound Pettigrew's hands at the wrist. Pettigrew stirred, attempting to stretch his arms and looking surprised when he couldn't. He opened his eyes to inspect his bonds, and froze at the sight of the three males looking down at him.

"R-Remus, S-S-Sirius," he stuttered, and struggled his way onto his knees. "T-Toshiro."

"Hitsugaya."

"What a p-pleasant surprise," the rat Animagus continued, ignoring Toshiro's correction. "It's so good to s-see you again." He stretched his arms out pleadingly towards Black and Lupin. "My old friends!"

"Cut the crap," Black snorted, and Lupin's eyes flickered over to Toshiro, as if embarrassed by his former classmate's language. "Why did you do it?"

Pettigrew recoiled, his arms folding up against his chest. "D-Do w-what?"

" _You know what_!" Even Lupin jumped at Black's sudden change in volume. "Why did you betray them? Why did you give them up to Voldemort?"

Pettigrew's left hand twisted to rub his right arm. He stuttered something incomprehensible, then turned to face Toshiro, crawling forward. "P-Please… Won't you help me? I've done nothing... Wasn't I a g-good rat to your friend?"

"You were certainly a good mole," Toshiro said, kicking Pettigrew off his feet. He sighed and elaborated at the glazed look to the rat's eyes. "It's a Muggle term."

"We're taking you to Dumbledore," Lupin said, prodding Pettigrew with his wand. The Animagus scrambled to his feet with a yelp. "Get moving."

Toshiro stepped aside so that Pettigrew could go first – he wasn't stupid enough to walk in front of a prisoner – when Pettigrew realized the desperation of his situation and lunged, knocking him to the ground. They wrestled for a moment, Pettigrew kneeling on top of Toshiro and trying to pry his wand out of his hand; Toshiro reached up and dug his knuckles into the Animagus's pressure point, causing him to go tense. He pushed the man off and backed away.

"Get up," he snarled. "Or don't – I would really love to stun you again, so do whatever you want. Just don't touch me ever again."

Pettigrew gulped and skittered nervously around the pissed Shinigami. Even Lupin and Black gave him a wide berth.

* * *

Black's welcome into the castle was less than warm. It was downright icy.

The four encountered McGonagall first, who recognized Pettigrew immediately, judging by her undignified, slack-jawed appearance. Then her gaze drifted over Lupin's somber expression, frowned at Toshiro's presence (it was after curfew), and locked onto Black, who was attempting to hide behind Lupin and look calm all at the same time.

"What is the meaning of this?" she asked, voice surprisingly steady. Black cleared his throat and brushed a hand down his filthy shirt.

"Well, we–"

" _Not_ you." McGonagall's wand leapt to her hand and was pointed at the escaped prisoner before he could get anything else out. "Remus, what is going on here? Why is Peter Pettigrew tied– How is he _alive_? And what are you doing out of bed at this hour?"

"I don't think that's the biggest issue here," Toshiro said, but Lupin immediately talked over him.

"I ran into Mr. Hitsugaya here after capturing…" His face paled. Oh no – my boggart!"

"Boggart?" Toshiro and Black asked.

"Yes, in my briefcase. I think I left it outside…"

"Oh, so that's what that was for," Toshiro muttered.

" _Excuse_ me!" McGonagall's wand wavered. "Can we _please_ focus? Professor Lupin – explain."

"Well…" Lupin glanced around. "Perhaps we should see the Headmaster."

"Wonderful idea!" Black exclaimed nervously. "Does he still have those awful lemon drops?"

"Yes," McGonagall answered automatically, then shook her head. "No!"

"So he doesn't?"

"No, he does, I just… All right, let's go."

The five trooped up to Dumbledore's office, McGonagall only allowing Hitsugaya along when Lupin explained that his presence was necessary for the full story. The Gryffindor House Head pursed her lips but said nothing more on the topic.

Dumbledore was standing by the window when they entered his office. Fawkes butted his head against the wizard's shoulder and trilled softly, getting his attention for the newcomers. When he turned, Dumbledore's eyes were lacking their usual twinkle. He looked old, the wrinkles deepening in his face and casting an exhausted air about him.

"Minerva," he said, sounding genuinely surprised, "what is this?"

"I would like to know that myself," the Headmistress replied, closing the door behind Toshiro and leaning against it with her arms crossed. "I found them in the entry. They wanted to speak with you."

Dumbledore nodded gravely and ran his gaze over those present; Toshiro was unable to tell what he was thinking, but when he met the man's eyes there was a gentle nudge to his mind. Hyourinmaru stirred anxiously and set up an impenetrable shield of ice around his consciousness. Dumbledore blinked and moved on.

"Well," he sighed, and sat down behind his desk, "Remus, perhaps you should go first?"

Lupin nodded and told his tale of what he had learned just that night. Toshiro only half listened, absorbing the information while studying the others' reactions to it. He had moved to the side so he could see everyone without looking suspicious. McGonagall appeared incredulous, almost angry; Black nodded in earnest at various times and twisted his hands before him; Pettigrew looked petrified and was continually gnawing at his lower lip. Dumbledore simply rested his hands on his desk and listened.

When Lupin finally finished, a silence permeated the office. The only sounds were the tinkling of the various instruments that were placed around the office and the scratch of talons on wood as Fawkes shifted on his perch.

At last Dumbledore drew in a breath and leaned back in his chair. "That is a fabulous tale," he said, and Lupin appeared taken aback. Hitsugaya tilted his head slightly – what did that mean? "What do you have to say about this?" Dumbledore asked Pettigrew, who took a nervous step forward and fell to his knees, startling those present.

"Lies!" he cried, and held up his hands. "They bound me and came up with lies to trick you and hurt me! I am innocent – I always have been!"

"Shut up!" Black snarled. McGonagall straightened from her position against the door, but Dumbledore waved her back.

"I can see that we are going to get nowhere at this rate," he sighed, and flicked his wand. Something wispy shot out, undulating like fine silver mist. The apparition stretched its wings, listened to Dumbledore indistinguishable whisper for a minute, then soared off through the wall, the tip of one feather brushing against Toshiro's cheek.

"While we are waiting for Severus, I would like to know how you fit into this." Dumbledore's glasses flashed at Toshiro. "Remus said you knew Sirius; how is that?"

"I met him months ago," Hitsugaya murmured. "He managed to convince me that he is innocent. Headmaster, what was that?"

"A patronus. They repel dementors and carry messages." Dumbledore leaned forward again, eyes shadowed. "Why did you not tell one of us when you first met him?"

A quick glance around showed that Black was watching him anxiously. Toshiro met Dumbledore's eyes and again felt a gentle prodding against his mind. Hyourinmaru's shield held, and again an infinitesimal flash of emotion darted across his wrinkled face. "We talked for most of the night," he answered finally, seeing that the others were getting restless. "At first I could honestly care less about Black and his problems, but somehow he made me care about what happened. Mostly because he wanted to kill Weasley's rat and I wanted to know why."

"When did you first meet him?" McGonagall asked. Hitsugaya glanced at her and hesitated.

"Well, I – talked to him the first time the night he destroyed the Fat Lady's portrait."

Black had the grace to grimace at this. McGonagall frowned, apparently having noticed his caged answer.

"You talked to him then. When did you first _see_ him?"

There was no way Toshiro could tell them about the time during summer – that would only bring about much more difficult questions. "The incident where I was attacked by a dog."

"I thought you were going to hurt Harry," Black immediately protested. Toshiro sighed.

"Like I have said before, you misread the situation," he said dryly. Lupin snorted with sudden realization.

"That was _you_?" he asked, spinning around to pin Black with a glare. "Sirius, _really_?"

A knock on the door broke into what could easily escalate into a fight just as Black opened his mouth to defend himself. A moment later it opened and Severus Snape appeared with a bag over one shoulder, looking unhappy at presumably being woken up. It was quite late, after all.

"You asked for my potions," he said, a question without the inflection of a question.

"Ah good, you are here," Dumbledore stated, and Snape's irritated expression made it quite clear how he felt about Dumbledore's habit of saying what was very clear without unnecessary explanation. "Yes, did you bring the Veritaserum?"

"Of course." Snape's eyes flicked around the room, taking in the sight of Black and the still-kneeling Pettigrew. His expression darkened into a snarl. "I presume it is to be used on the filth?"

"Severus," McGonagall snapped. "This is neither the time nor the place."

Toshiro's presence was registered with the Potions Master. "Indeed," was his only response.

"Mr. Hitsugaya, it is very late. Why don't you go back to your dorms and get some sleep?" McGonagall was looking at him with an expression that very clearly communicated the order. "If we need you further, we will call you."

"Of course, Professor." Toshiro acknowledged her with a bow, despite his desire to find out how this would end.

"Of course you know that nothing of what you know is to be said to anyone else?" Dumbledore suddenly said, and Toshiro nodded. Once again he felt the prodding, so this time, irritated with the repeated attempts at intruding his privacy, Toshiro pushed back. He encountered a solid wall that stung him violently, and he flinched at the unexpected mental jolt. Appraising the old man with a new intent, Toshiro inclined his head and left the office, closing the door silently behind him, unaware of the evaluating eyes studying him.

* * *

One very, very long night later, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew were traveling through Dumbledore's private fireplace on their way to holding cells in the Ministry, accompanied by several Aurors. The Minister of Magic himself, Fudge, stayed behind a few minutes for a few private words with Dumbledore before following. Soon the only people left in Dumbledore's office were the Headmaster himself, McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape. Lupin left first, bleary-eyed, followed closely by McGonagall who had an early seventh-year class. Snape lingered in a corner, waiting to speak to Dumbledore privately.

With the presence of the Ministry officials gone, Dumbledore had slumped back in his seat and was rubbing his eyes under his glasses. "That was exhausting," he murmured, more to himself than anything else, but Snape heard nevertheless.

"It will only get worse," he said, and Dumbledore dropped his hand to look at him. "Now Black and Pettigrew will get trials, and all of us involved will have to be present. Likely even the foreigner will have to attend, though what use he will be I don't know."

Dumbledore nodded, looking thoughtful. "He is not a simple student," he said. "I tried seeing his memories tonight – to see if he was under the Imperius – but he was blocking me. It felt – _cold_."

"I find it hard to believe a mere child could fend off a proficient Legilimens such as yourself," Snape sniffed. "Though it does explain his twitching just before he left. I assume he was defending himself against you?"

"Yes, but he also attacked me back."

"Excuse me?" Snape's usual mask slipped. "He did _what_?"

Dumbledore looked slightly amused. "I don't believe he appreciated me prodding his mind. He snapped back, rather like an angry animal."

"Perhaps the Japanese teach their children Occlumency," Snape mused. "That would explain… You are sure the wall was not simply emptiness?"

Dumbledore fixed Snape with a sharp gaze. "Severus, children are not the dunderheads you believe them to be. Give him the benefit of the doubt."

"What are you going to do about him?" Snape asked. Dumbledore noted but ignored the clear evasion of topic.

"Do about him? Nothing."

"Headmaster, you cannot let this go." Snape looked exasperated. "We do not even know why he is here; he could be a spy, for all we know."

"I am well aware of the possibilities." He tented his fingers under his chin and took a minute to think. "We will observe him more carefully, and I will look into his past. Will that satisfy you?"

Snape inclined his head, jaw tight. "It will."

"Good. Now then, I am sure you want to get as much sleep as possible before today's classes?"

Snape took the hint and left, leaving Dumbledore alone in his office. The Headmaster sat behind his desk for some time, still thinking. The sun was just rising when he felt that odd, cold presence rapidly leaving the school. Dumbledore stood and walked to his window, leaning against the cool stone wall until he felt the presence come back.

 _Who are you, Toshiro Hitsugaya?_ he wondered. What _are you?_


	18. Chapter 18

**I'm alive! Shocking, yes, I know. Anyway, stuff has been happening, but I won't bore you with the details. Except that I almost saw a dog fight. A dog got out of the neighbor's house, a lady was walking outside with her dogs...you can see where it's going from here. Anyway, nothing happened, the owners got their dogs apart, but I learned that air horns are _not_ sufficient in scaring away dogs. Yep.**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their respective owners.**

* * *

Keeping the information that Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew were in the hands of the Ministry was a surprisingly easy task. Toshiro had expected to be bombarded with questions, even though he had returned to the common room well after hours and had gotten into bed without talking to anyone, even with the weak Hollow that he had to dispatch at dawn. After dealing with that, he crawled into bed and was almost late for class.

Given how gossip traveled in this world in the form of the irritatingly-biased newspaper, Hitsugaya was relieved when absolutely no one brought up the incident. He resolved to leave this in the hands of the adult wizards. He really didn't care what happened to Black. Yes, he may have gotten to like – no, perhaps _respect_ was a more appropriate word – the man, but his duties did not extend to interfering with the World of the Living's legal matters. Whether the man was sent back to prison or not, he would eventually die, and _that_ was when Toshiro would care.

That said, he wasn't particularly surprised when McGonagall found him at dinner that night and told him to meet in Dumbledore's office at seven, that the password was 'Candy Cane', and not to be late. Toshiro then dragged his exhausted person up the many steps and knocked wearily on the office door; he had a good idea of why he was there, and – dear _gods_ , Yamamoto was not going to like this.

"Ah, dear boy, there you are," Dumbledore greeted him, sounding much too cheerful for doubtlessly pulling an all-nighter. "Would you like a lemon drop?"

Having always refused the wizard before, and hoping for something to keep him occupied, Toshiro accepted. Only decades of attending Captains' meetings kept him from gagging and spitting it out.

"Now, I am sure you know why you are here," Dumbledore said, setting the bowl back down on his desk and popping a candy into his mouth, "but rules must be observed, so I shall explain it to you regardless."

Hitsugaya lifted an eyebrow and glanced at McGonagall standing by the window. Was he serious? This was the same man who practically _invited_ curious students to try and get past a Cerberus and several deadly – or mildly annoying, in the flying keys' case – traps in order to retrieve a stone that Dumbledore ended up destroying anyway.

Apparently he was serious, going by McGonagall's resigned expression.

Dumbledore leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk, tenting his fingers and drawing the Shinigami's attention back to him. "Sirius is having his trial tomorrow, and as one of the main components of his capture, you are required to attend."

Toshiro shoved the horrid candy into his cheek so he could talk around it. "Is it really necessary? I am not an English citizen, so my word won't count for anything."

"It will, your status as a Hogwarts student will ensure that."

"Maybe, but what if I don't _want_ to attend?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "You are required to. We cannot lie in front of the entire Wizengamot by saying you had nothing to do with this. They already know of your involvement. I gave them a list of witnesses yesterday."

 _Damn._ Hitsugaya met Dumbledore's eyes. "Then I will give my report and sign an affidavit."

"What do you know about affidavits?" McGonagall asked, sounding surprised. Toshiro didn't look away from Dumbledore to answer her.

"Enough."

His response was obviously considered rude, if her _'tsk'_ was anything to go by.

"Now, now, there's no need to be impolite," Dumbledore admonished. "Mr. Hitsugaya, your physical presence is required at the Ministry. The trial will be held on Sunday, so there really is no reason why you cannot attend."

"Your government works on a Sunday?" Toshiro asked in genuine surprise. Dumbledore's lips twitched.

"For important occasions. This certainly qualifies. So, you will be here at eight Sunday morning?"

Hitsugaya thought it over. He would need to call Yamamoto and make sure the records confirming his cover story were all in place. If they were, this shouldn't be _too_ much of a hassle. He nodded in resignation. "I will be here."

"Splendid! Lemon drop?"

* * *

Sirius Black's first appearance at trial was a well-kept secret that Dumbledore was frankly astonished the Ministry had managed to keep. Given the Ministry's propensity for loose lips, it was a minor miracle the wolves of the _Daily Prophet_ hadn't yet managed to get their claws on it.

As it was, he did not expect the information to stay quiet for long; the full Wizengamot was called to attend the trial that Sirius Black should have had twelve years ago. The thought of it made Dumbledore's stomach churn – he should have insisted Sirius received a trial, even if the Wizarding World would never declare him innocent. At least this time there was no way he was letting Sirius leave as a condemned man.

Cornelius Fudge was heading the Wizengamot that day, as Dumbledore was deemed too involved to operate impartially. He didn't mind this decision too much, as this way he would be able to assist Sirius, being a witness.

The trial went smoothly. Sirius Black entered, hands bound before him and wearing the navy blue pinstripe suit with a matching tie that Dumbledore had sent him. It was one of his more professional Muggle sets that he used when the grandfatherly-type would not suit his purposes. Sirius sat on the lone chair in the middle of the room; the chains dangling down the sides sprang up and wrapped themselves around him.

Hitsugaya's help really had made a difference for him. He had expected Sirius to be gaunt and unkempt, and though he still was thin enough that Molly Weasley would fuss over him, he did not have the look of a starving man. His hair had been washed and cut, and he had shaved off the scraggy beard so that now he looked clean and presentable.

Sirius was then questioned for a long time, the Minister appearing to want this to be very legal, as it would undoubtedly end up in the next edition of the _Prophet_ , no matter the outcome. When asked how he had escaped Azkaban, he grimaced and admitted that he was an unregistered Animagus. The Wizengamot wasn't pleased to hear that.

Severus and Minerva were called as witnesses and gave their accounts professionally; both stood beside Sirius's chair to answer the Minister's questions, though Severus looked distinctly unhappy with both his proximity to his childhood tormentor and the fact that his being a previous Death Eater was brought up.

Dumbledore groaned inwardly at this. Now he would have to have a talk with the Hitsugaya boy.

Then Remus was called up, and he stood in his worn-down clothes looking haggard before the entire Wizengamot. His lycanthropy was, of course, mentioned, and at this the professor flinched and shot a glance at Hitsugaya. Dumbledore also discreetly looked his way, and was surprised to find the boy looked just as calm as he did a few hours ago in his office – if more than a little irritated.

Well, the boy was an excellent student, and Severus's lesson on werewolves certainly hadn't helped matters. Dumbledore just hoped the other students hadn't found out.

Once Remus was finished, Hitsugaya was called down. He picked his way out of the witness box and stood silently beside Sirius, gazing evenly up at the Minister. His answers were precise and immediate, and his voice was flat. It sounded for all the world like he was accustomed to giving reports under pressure. Dumbledore's curiosity stirred, and he resolved to look into the boy's past more closely. His cursory look over his papers the previous day had revealed nothing suspicious – and that in and of itself was suspicious.

The Minister's questioning was winding down when Amelia Bones gained his attention. She leaned forward slightly, her expression stern and gentle. Dumbledore suddenly recalled that she had a niece who attended Hogwarts in the same year as Histugaya. She was likely reminded of her.

"You are from Japan?" she asked, and Hitsugaya nodded.

"Yes, ma'am."

At this she looked amused. "Do you know who I am?"

The neutral mask Hitsugaya had adopted throughout the trial cracked as his brows drew together. "Yes, ma'am." He glanced at Fudge, clearly wondering what this was about, since the Minister had introduced all the important figures in the beginning. "You are Madam Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Amelia nodded. "I am. And do you know that I have a niece at Hogwarts, your same year?"

Hitsugaya's eyes glazed as he thought. After a moment they sharpened back into their normal startling look. "Susan Bones the Hufflepuff?"

"The same. And I know for a fact that if she had encountered Sirius Black she would have immediately reported it to an adult. Why is it that you did not do the same?"

Hitsugaya didn't remove his gaze from hers. Dumbledore noted this with a small amount of satisfaction. This boy was strong, and would go far. He would do great things for the Wizarding World.

That was, if he was even _with_ the Wizarding World.

"I talked to him, and he managed to convince me that he was not the criminal everyone thinks he is," Hitsugaya responded calmly. "I was willing to give a chance to a man who attempts to explain his actions to a defenseless third year instead of storming the castle to get his revenge."

Dumbledore was impressed. Not only had the boy managed to convey the sense that Sirius would not harm a child, it also implied that he was rational even after being in Azkaban for an extended amount of time. Hitsugaya was most definitely experienced at this.

Either that or he was very good at winging things.

Amelia nodding, looking vaguely unsatisfied, but swept her gaze around the tiered seats. "Any further questions?"

There was a vague murmuring in the negative, so Amelia dismissed Hitsugaya who returned to his seat and sat silently through the rest of the trial, back ramrod straight.

After a few more legalities were dispensed with, the Wizengamot retreated behind a silencing spell to discuss their verdict. They emerged half an hour later and declared Sirius cleared of all charges. The chains dropped from the chair and Sirius bounded up to pull Remus into a fierce embrace, pounding his back as if they were schoolchildren again. He broke away and exchanged a few words with Minerva, nodded tensely to Severus, and stuck his hand out to Hitsugaya. The boy took it, but a few seconds into the handshake, Sirius changed his mind and pull him in for a hug. The third year awkwardly patted his back.

Sirius was then escorted out of the room to fill out paperwork. Dumbledore made his way over to the witness box and conversed quietly with Minerva. Peter's trial was just after Sirius's, so there was no point in going anywhere. The Wizengamot was talking and sorting paperwork, and a few were even trying to take a nap.

An hour later, Sirius returned and, beaming, showed his official pardon from the Ministry to Remus. The werewolf's eyes were suspiciously bright, and he congratulated his friend enthusiastically.

Finishing with Minerva, Dumbledore turned to Hitsugaya, who was sitting a few seats away with perfect posture and a bored look. "Would you like anything, Mr. Hitsugaya?" he asked, and the boy turned to face him, blinking to focus his gaze. "I can conjure up some refreshments, if you like."

"No thank you," he replied, and turned away again.

* * *

Toshiro was bored. Incredibly so.

The trial was dull, and even his own participation couldn't garner enough interest to hold his attention for long. He tuned out most of it, and instead retreated inside his inner world to talk with Hyourinmaru. The great ice dragon was just as bored as he was, and had resorted to an improvised game of wizarding chess to pass the time.

He was glad that Black had been cleared. No one deserved to be locked up for a crime they didn't commit. Especially not in a place like Azkaban. Black had described it to him, though he had become so overcome with emotion that Hitsugaya had to put him to sleep with a sleeping charm and leave quietly.

Pettigrew's trial wasn't much better. It followed the same structure as Black's, although now Black was one of the witnesses instead of the accused. Pettigrew sniffled his way through the trial, and had to be dragged away by two brawny Aurors after being sentenced to life in Azkaban. His wailing cries were cut off as the door swung shut, and Hitsugaya couldn't help but feel a small stirring of pity for the man. He was doomed to spend the rest of his life in an empty cell with nothing but the ramblings of other prisoners and the cold torment of the dementors for company.

He followed the professors and Black out of the courtroom and stood off to the side while they conversed in quiet tones. Then they seemed to realize that he was still there, and Snape ordered him to follow him. He did so, chafing at the order and the tone, but said nothing as they rode the lift up to the Atrium. The queues for the Floo weren't bad, and within minutes he was brushing soot off his robes. Snape followed a moment later, sneering down at him.

"Get out of my office, and don't touch anything."

Narrowing his eyes at the professor, Hitsugaya left. The castle was quiet, seeing as it was lunchtime and most students were in the Great Hall. He decided to forego lunch and averted his path to head outside, but before he could leave, Nearly Headless Nick drifted through the wall in front of him.

"Oh, Mr. Shinigami," he greeted, and Toshiro looked around before hissing angrily at the ghost.

"Don't call me that!"

"Right, right." Nick drifted down to look him in the eyes, expression uncharacteristically solemn. He sighed. "You know, it is not easy to have one of your kind here. Always wondering when you're going to exorcise us…"

"It's not an exorcism," Hitsugaya snapped. He took a deep breath. "Look, what do you want?"

"Oh, nothing." Nick floated closer. The feather on his hat flopped down over his eyes, and he thoughtlessly batted it away. "Your job is to pass souls on, correct?"

"Yes…"

"So what are you planning on doing about the dementors?"

"Excuse me?" Toshiro raised his eyebrows. "I don't see what they have to do with me."

Nick's head tilted dangerously. "You _are_ aware of what they do, aren't you?"

"Of course." Toshiro really didn't see the point to this conversation. "They suck out people's souls."

"And your job is to pass them on, if I remember correctly."

"No. My _job_ is to make sure plus souls don't turn into Hollows. I am to send on any pluses that I find. Which do _not_ include you," he added, seeing Nick's objection. "We've already established that you do not have a Chain of Fate and are in no danger of turning. Now, I believe that answers your concern…"

He attempted to walk away, but Nick lunged forward and grabbed his arm. Toshiro sighed and turned, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"Aren't you going to at least _try_?" the ghost asked. Toshiro pulled his arm away and crossed them over his chest.

"Look, if you want me to answer anything, you have to give me a complete question. I am not a mind reader. Now, aren't I going to try what?"

"Freeing the souls," Nick said, as if it was obvious. "The dementors are abominations, dark creatures. It is your job to protect the souls they have devoured."

"No, it is not." Toshiro relaxed his stance. "Look, I doubt the souls the dementors devour are even still intact. Likely they were absorbed into them, just as food is broken down and absorbed into the human body. Are they dark creatures? Yes. Very much so. Will I do anything about them? No. They will be leaving soon, in any case. Now, good day."

He tried to leave again, and this time Nick didn't stop him. The ghost was left floating in the corridor, looking lost.

* * *

Dumbledore hummed to himself as he walked through the dark corridors of the Ministry. He was pleased. Sirius was innocent and being given treatment for his stay in Azkaban, Peter was taking his rightful place in prison, and he himself was going to a meeting to decide whether or not to hold the Triwizard Tournament the next year.

The international Wizarding Schools' meeting room table was mostly filled with a smattering of Headmasters and Headmistresses; Dumbledore nodded a greeting to the Beauxbaton Headmistress, receiving a tart greeting in return. He stood by his chair and swept the room with his eyes, looking for – there!

"Ah, Fujino," he called, striding over to the man in question. The balding Japanese man turned, his golden robes glinting in the artificial light streaming through the windows.

"Dumbledore," he replied cordially, with a half-bow. Dumbledore paused and returned the gesture. "If you are here to ask me to support you in your foolish wish to risk the students' lives–"

"Oh, no," Dumbledore said, wincing internally. There was one supporter lost. Still, perhaps he would… "No, I would simply like to ask you about something your country does differently than ours."

"Oh?" Fujino raised an eyebrow. "What would that be?"

"Your students begin to attend school at the age of seven, do they not?"

"Yes, but they do not board until eleven," Fujino replied. "Why the curiosity?"

"It could be nothing, but I felt the need to check." Dumbledore smiled at the other Headmaster, his eyes twinkling in the light. "I have a student who is somewhat of an enigma."

"I take it this student is from Japan."

"Of course, or I would not bother you with this."

Fujino absently brought one hand up to smooth his thinning hair over his bald spot. "What is wrong with him?"

"Wrong? Nothing. He is perhaps the brightest in his year."

Dumbledore watched in amusement as Fujino dropped his hand and an irritated frown crossed his face. "So why did you steal him?" he asked, rather crossly. Dumbledore chuckled and was about to respond that no, he did not steal him, he knew better than to mess with the Mahoutokoro intellectuals, when the Durmstrang Headmaster stalked into the room, slaming the door behind him.

"Let's get this over with," he called, screeched out his chair, and sat heavily down. He glared at the others until they also took their seats.

"We will talk afterwards," Fujino promised Dumbledore as he moved away. "I wish to know why such a gifted student was not enrolled in my school."

Dumbledore laughed softly. Trust the Mahoutokoro Headmaster to be curious.

* * *

 **Sirius Black is innocent and Peter Pettigrew is alive!**

 _Just yesterday, Sirius Black, previously thought to have killed twelve Muggles and fellow wizard Peter Pettigrew, was finally given the trial that he was unjustly denied twelve years ago. Apparently spearheaded by Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Wizengamot found Black innocent of all charges within hours – then proceeded to find Peter Pettigrew guilty of murder!_

 _Although all the details are not yet known, this much has been confirmed by Dumbledore himself, as he said in his interview with a_ Daily Prophet _reporter later that day: "Sirius [Black] committed no crime, and was falsely incarcerated for all these years for a crime that was not his."_

 _Transfiguration Instructor Professor McGonagall was also present for the trial, and spoke to reporters just before leaving for Hogwarts once more. "It is a relief to know that Sirius [Black] has finally been given the justice he deserves," she said. "I remember teaching him at Hogwarts years ago, and he was such a lively student. He has changed…very much since then."_

 _Sirius Black himself was unavailable for comment, although it has been heard that he is visiting Mind-Healers to attempt to heal what has no doubt been an awful experience in Azkaban. Peter Pettigrew is now serving a life sentence in Azkaban._

 _But the question remains – how did Sirius Black escape from the unescapable? Answers on pages 2 and 3._

 _Why did Sirius Black go to Hogwarts, of all places, after escaping? Mad – or serious? Pages 4 and 5._

 _Where was Peter Pettigrew all this time? See pages 6, 7, and 8._

Toshiro handed the paper back to Dean Thomas, avoiding the Trio's questioning stares. "Well, that's good," he said weakly. The gazes didn't waver.

Their stares continued throughout the day, burning holes in his back even in class. Harry almost exploded his cauldron with an extra porcupine spine, he was so distracted. Toshiro finally gave in and told them that he would fill them in at dinner – outside and with a silencing spell up, of course.

So there they were, sitting beneath a tree by the lake while the darkness drew in. When Toshiro finished his story, they were silent, stunned into contemplation. And then – questions.

He did his best to answer them, but they came rapid-fire and he had no choice but to clamp his mouth shut and glare until they got the hint and shut up. Finally he was able to speak without shouting, so he spoke quickly and softly, forcing them to listen.

It was nearing curfew by the time they ran out of queries, so he led the still-stunned group up the steps and through the nearly empty castle. They were waiting for the staircase to lock into place when Ron spoke up, voice a breathy whisper. "I can't believe it," he said, staring off into space. "Scabbers really is a person."

Toshiro shot him a sympathetic gaze; he couldn't pretend to know how the other boy was feeling, but he knew that he himself would be horrified to learn that the rat he'd shared a bed with for the past three years was really a human in disguise. And not only was he a human, but a male as well.

"I should write him a letter," Harry said suddenly as they crawled through the portrait hole. "Sirius is – well, does he even _want_ to see me?"

Toshiro fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Of course he does," he answered, lowering his voice so that the seventh-years playing Exploding Snap by the fire couldn't hear. "He was always asking me if you'd asked about him."

"I have a godfather," Harry whispered. His eyes widened into large, frightened circles behind his glasses. "Oh God – I have a _godfather_. I don't have to live with the Dursleys anymore!"

Toshiro looked at him sharply. His stay with Harry during the summer had alleviated most of his concerns about the relatives, but statements like _that_ made him wonder if he had missed something. How could a boy want to go live with someone that he didn't even know?

The next morning's _Daily Prophet_ revealed the information that Sirius Black was Harry Potter's godfather. By lunchtime everyone knew, and Harry was getting stared at and whispered about even more than usual. Toshiro took pity on him and dragged him away after their last class of the day. Harry complained only briefly about missing dinner before Toshiro snapped at him.

"Wow," he exhaled, looking around the room. "What is this place? It's not on the Map."

"Wouldn't be," Toshiro dismissed, sinking onto one of the cushions scattered across the floor. "It can't be mapped."

"But, what _is_ it?"

Toshiro waved him over, and waited until the boy was sitting before answering his question. "It is called the Room of Requirement. Before you ask, Black told me about it. I find that it is an excellent place to train. It will give you anything you want. All you have to do is ask."

"Really? Anything?" Potter looked intrigued.

"Anything. Except for food. Other than that, though…"

"Brilliant!"

"Yes," Toshiro smiled weakly. He straightened up. "Now, I think I found the reason why you can't meditate."

"Oh." Harry slumped on his cushion. Toshiro continued on, ignoring his lack of enthusiasm.

"Yes. Unfortunately, it seems that the reiatsu-suppressing bracelet also serves to prevent you from doing _anything_ with your powers."

Harry's hand brushed against the red band around his wrist.

"I am going to take it off you," Toshiro continued, "and then I am going to draw you in, allow you to see how it feels to sink into your inner world. Are you ready?"

"Uh – no." Harry scooted away as Hitsugaya reached for his arm. "Didn't you say bad things'll happen if it comes off?"

Toshiro allowed an amused smirk to quirk his lips. " _Yes_ ," he drawled, "but I am a Captain. I think I can contain anything harmful. Likely your reiatsu will burst out; it's been contained for far too long. Just let it. If it becomes too much for you, I will cancel it out with my own."

"Huh?"

This time Toshiro sighed. "Think of reiatsu like a river. If you dam it up, pressure is going to build, right?"

Harry's eyes flicked up as he thought. "Uh, right."

"So, as the water keeps pushing against the dam, more water comes behind it; the pressure builds up, up, up." Toshiro lifted his hand with each 'up'. "Take away the dam, what will happen?"

"The water'll flood," Harry said, then his eyes lit up. "Oh! So, because the re-ai-the bracelet's been keeping it back, my power will explode out?"

"Correct. Now, it's going to feel strange. Like you're getting torn apart from the inside, most likely. Just let it happen. Let your power flow through you. The initial wave will dissipate; just let it go at its own pace. You'll be fine. I doubt you're powerful enough that it'll kill you."

Harry didn't even look remotely reassured, but nodded anyway, and with a deep breath, held out his arm. Hitsugaya took it gently and placed his fingertips on the smooth metal of the band, pushing some of his own reiatsu in to unlock it. With a soft click, it sprang apart and dropped into his waiting hand.

The effect was immediate.

* * *

Harry's stomach churned as he watched Toshiro remove the bracelet, and was suddenly glad that he hadn't eaten dinner.

Despite the Japanese boy's warning, the sudden release caught him unaware. He felt – _something_ burst from him, clawing at his insides as it surged from within, howling and snarling as it fought its way to freedom. He lurched back as it erupted from his body, incinerating his skin and setting his nerves tingling violently. He shut his eyes against the white flash that seared his eyes, and clenched his hands so tightly that he felt blood trickle down his palms.

It almost felt – _alive_. He could feel its exhilaration as it snapped freely about the air, could hear its voice as it cried out its relief at finally being set free. He felt like shouting with it, throwing back his head and yelling until he went mute.

And then he felt the explosion settle, the raw, pent-up power having exhausted its reserves, and he felt irrationally tired, as if he had just run 'round the lake.

"This is reiatsu, Potter," came Toshiro's voice, and Harry felt a vague stir of irritation claw at him. Why was he interrupting? Didn't he know how _good_ this felt? "This is the lifeblood of all things. It flows through us all, whether we recognize it or not. Know it, Potter, for you can never let it go. It is with you, always."

* * *

As Harry laid in bed that night, he reveled in these new-found powers. He could still feel it thrumming beneath his skin, sated, but not fully satisfied. It wanted release, he knew. He could _feel_ it.

He grinned into the darkness. It felt so _good_! It was nothing like using magic. It just felt…right.

 _The power of life itself,_ he mused, thinking back on Toshiro's words from later in the session. _Of all things… I wonder what I can do. Is it more powerful than magic?_ A thought suddenly flashed across his mind, startling him and making him sit up, despite the tiredness that threatened to drag him down again.

 _Could I be more powerful than…anyone? Even Dumbledore?_

His heart pumped wildly in his chest, sending adrenaline soaring through his veins. He twisted the sheets in his hands; he couldn't sit still. Not with this power pulsing inside of him. He needed to _do_ something.

Shoving back his curtains, Harry leapt out of bed, forgoing his shoes in favor of practically running over to Toshiro's bed. He hesitated for the briefest of moments before ripping aside the thick curtains to reveal the small Japanese boy curled up on his side, asleep. Harry had just enough time to think that he looked like a little kid when he laid like that, before his face was pressed up against the bed and he was unable to breathe. But just as his power stirred to defend him, the hands keeping him down were gone, and he sucked in a huge breath.

"What is it?" Toshiro asked crossly, sinking back down onto the bed and crossing his arms. Even bleary-eyed with sleep and hair smushed up on one side, he could produce a withering glare. Harry drew back, courage failing him. "Well?" Toshiro prodded, and Harry could practically feel the irritation rolling in waves off him.

"Um," Harry replied elegantly, blinking. Now that he was standing, he could tell just how tired he really was. His legs seemed to be the worst of it, knees threatening to go on strike.

Toshiro's unearthly turquoise eyes swept over him. Then the boy stood gracefully and guided Harry over to his own bed, pressing firmly down on his shoulders. Harry fell onto his bed, offering no resistance. He just blinked heavily up at Toshiro as the boy shoved his errant limbs onto the mattress and pulled the sheet over him. He slurred something unintelligible when Toshiro gently took off his glasses, the tips tapping against the glass, and set them down on the nightstand. Then he placed a warm hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Go to sleep," he said in a tone that would have had Ron guffawing. He sounded almost…fatherly.

That thought was just too disturbing to entertain, so Harry promptly forgot it.

He mumbled something in appreciation and drifted off into sleep. On the other side of the curtains, Toshiro gave in to temptation and rolled his eyes, before turning and climbing into his own bed.

* * *

If Hermione hadn't moved the plate out of the way at the last second, Harry's face would've fallen straight into his porridge.

As it was, the mostly-asleep boy made no effort to move his head off the table, and instead started to fall asleep right there in the middle of the Great Hall during breakfast. The other Gryffindors around them shot him looks, snickering. Ron snorted.

"Whassup wii 'im?" he asked around a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Toshiro sighed but didn't comment.

"He's tired."

"Ouously."

"I removed the bracelet," Hitsugaya continued, ignoring the boy shoveling food into his mouth. "All of his pent-up power was released. It exhausted him. He'll be fine."

Harry perked up enough to get to History of Magic on time, but spent the entire class sleeping. Ron, left to play magical hangman on his own, had to prod him in the ribs when he started snoring.

Double Potions was a disaster, and Toshiro started to think that perhaps he should have waited until the weekend to remove the bracelet. He hadn't thought the boy would have _this_ severe of a reaction to it. Snape took twenty points off Gryffindor for Harry's potion, which had congealed into a gray lump in the bottom of his cauldron.

Finally the day was over, and Harry collapsed onto the bed nearest the dorm door as soon as he could. Dean had a bit of a shock to find the Boy Who Lived flopped halfway onto his bed.

* * *

"Are you ready?" Hitsugaya asked. Harry nodded, looking nervous.

It was Saturday, and the two were back in the Room of Requirement, sitting on plush cushions. There were still dark circles under Harry's eyes, but he seemed awake enough to do this, and Toshiro didn't want to wait any longer.

Without waiting for any further prompting, he closed his eyes and reached out to brush against Harry's mind, waiting patiently as it instinctively recoiled away from the touch. Eventually he relaxed enough to allow him in, and Toshiro then soothed it, lulling Harry's conscious enough so that he could grab on and pull him down into his inner world. Toshiro left before he could catch a glimpse of it – it was a private place for Harry and Harry only, and he had no right to intrude. Retreating back to himself, Toshiro opened his eyes to find that Harry was deep in meditation, likely searching for his zanpakuto spirit.

Keeping a mental eye out, Toshiro moved to the other side of the room, shedding his gigai and unsheathing his sword. He slid through a series of smooth strokes to warm up, before adding any proverbial fire to his blows. Thrusting his sword forward then up, he imagined parrying an imaginary foe's blade before spinning around to chop at its legs; it jumped, so he lifted his sword up to block its strike.

About half an hour later, Toshiro went over to his gigai – which was examining a corner with concerning interest – and drew his wand. There was a moment's confusion where he tried to figure out how to hold both his sword and wand, and finally ended up holding his wand in his left hand and his sword in his right.

But when he attempted to cast a spell with his left hand, it fizzled out of his wand and sputtered pathetically on the floor.

"Well, then," he muttered, and raised his wand. "It seems I have work to do."

Casting spells with his non-dominant hand took quite a bit of getting used to. The hand movements felt all wrong, and after several hours of practicing, he felt like a puny first-year again. Glancing over to see Harry curled up asleep on his side – Toshiro had drawn him out of his meditation a few hours ago to find that the boy was barely able to stay awake – he reentered his gigai. Just as he was sliding his wand into its place in his boot, he felt it freeze, as if suddenly turning to ice. Cautiously touching the wood, he found that it wasn't any colder than normal. He straightened up, wondering if he was going insane.

* * *

 **I did not make up Mahoutokoro, by the way. It is listed in Pottermore as a Japanese school.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Real life is a ****. That is all I will say on the subject.**

 **By the way, the last section of this chapter is probably my favorite bit of this story so far. I can just see Hitsugaya going "Oh _h_ *** no!"**

 **Disclaimer: All rights for Harry Potter and Bleach go to their rightful owners.**

* * *

"I hate you," Harry muttered darkly.

Across the room, Toshiro paused in his practice and looked over at the boy. He shrugged. "Not my problem."

"You're a jerk."

" _You_ need practice." Toshiro put his back to the boy and raised his left hand, cold wand gripped loosely. "Sit down."

He could hear nothing for several seconds, and assumed Harry was just glaring at him. Ignoring the melodramatic child, he swished his wand. A weak red beam shot out the tip and arced across the room, leaving a scorch mark on the wall next to the target. Toshiro scowled and tried again.

Ever since figuring out that being able to use spells _and_ a sword simultaneously in battle would confuse and surprise opponents, he had been attempting to recreate his casting skills with his left hand. It…wasn't going so well.

"But I need to be there!" Harry whined suddenly.

Toshiro had a sudden image of him practicing his aim on Potter. Surely _that_ would shut him up.

Spinning to shoot a steely glare of his own at the child, Toshiro said, "Your presence will affect the outcome of the game in no way. Now shut up and _sit down_!"

Harry huffed and ignored the order. "I need to find out what the score is. If Slytherin gets too many points–"

Toshiro threw up his hands. "I miss the time when you feared me," he said exasperatedly. "At least then you listened to me."

"Oh, I was never afraid of you," Harry dismissed, and Toshiro closed his eyes in an effort to compose himself. "You're really just a big pussy."

Toshiro's eyes flew open. "Wait – wha… _Potter_!"

"What?" Harry asked innocently, no hint of maliciousness in his eyes. "Once you get to know you, you're just a big, soft pussycat."

Toshiro sighed, and rubbed his eyes. "Potter, do me a favor and _never_ call me that again. In fact, don't call _anyone_ that."

"Why?"

 _"He's serious,"_ Hyourinmaru said suddenly, wonder in his voice. Toshiro fought a strained chuckle.

 _"Yes, I believe he is."_ Then, aloud, he said, "That's…not a conversation I am going to have with you. I would tell you to look it up, but that's a bad, _bad_ idea. If you absolutely need to know, go to one of the teachers."

"O-kay…" Harry said, looking lost. Toshiro bit his lip and turned away. He waved a hand dismissively. There was no way either of them were going to be able to focus after this.

"Just…just go to the game, all right?"

He could feel the boy's energy spike in excitement. "Really? Great!" Within seconds, he was gone.

As soon as the door swung shut behind him, Toshiro let out a huge snort of laughter.

* * *

Professor Minerva McGonagall rapped smartly on the door. She pushed it open to see Filius Flitwick standing beside his desk, studying the long, trim broomstick lying on it. The wood, a deep, rich red color, shone just as brightly as it had the day they'd confiscated it.

"Ah, Minerva!" Filius squeaked, lifting his head to look up at her. "Good evening!"

"Good evening," she replied, then moved to stand next to the desk. She reached out, brushing her fingers against the broom. It was smooth, without imperfections. No wonder Potter and Weasley were so eager to get it back; it would outfly the Slytherins' Nimbus Two-Thousand and One's by a mile. The thought made her smile tensely. _This_ year, Gryffindor would win.

Collecting her thoughts, she pulled back her hand and slid it into her sleeve. "I have some news that will make you happy."

"Oh? What is it?" Filius asked, black eyes glinting. "It is about the broom?"

"It is. I was informed not long ago that it was Sirius Black who sent Potter the broomstick."

Filius's eager look vanished, replaced with thin-lipped apprehension. "Then we will need to run more tests. I thought we were done, but considering that… Have we tested for the Stinging Hex?"

Minerva shook her head. "Not necessary," she said, and plowed on, ignoring the Charms Professor's confused question. "Albus talked to Sirius, and the broom came up. He believes that Sirius did nothing to the broom. Apparently Sirius gave him permission to see his memory of all the times he handled the thing."

Filius made a high-pitched, irritated sound. "Nothing is for certain! He may have created false memories!"

"False memories good enough to fool Albus, arguably the greatest Legilimens of this century?"

"Well…"

"It's clean," Minerva said, and reached forward to wrap a cloth around the broom. "I'll have to give this back to Potter. Hopefully he, Wood, and Weasley will cease pestering me about it."

Filius trailed her to the door. "Perhaps we should run one more test…just to be sure?"

Minerva held back an amused snort. "I'm starting to think you want to keep it simply to give Ravenclaw an advantage in the upcoming game."

"Preposterous!" Filius drew himself up to all his underwhelming height. "Of course not! I do want Ravenclaw to win, of course, but I would never do anything to sabotage the other team…it's against our contract as teachers, you know. Not that anyone bothers to read the thing," he continued, muttering. "Full of nonsensical rules. Like the one about the shoes. Do you know that we can't…Minerva?"

She was gone.

* * *

Hitsugaya retraced the rune, extending the tail a little more this time. He sat back, eyeing it critically. "Does this look lopsided to you?" he asked, turning his paper around so Hermione could see it.

"Nope," she replied, not even looking up from her essay. Her quill was scratching furiously over the paper, and he was slightly worried that she would set it on fire if she kept it up. There had to be some serious friction going on there…

"You didn't even look," Toshiro protested. Hermione huffed and glanced up for a split second.

"Looks fine." She returned to her work.

"Big help," Toshiro grumbled, but carefully formed the rest of the runes and cast a quick drying spell over the parchment before rolling it up and stretching. "There. Done."

"Nice," Hermione said distractedly. She was bending down over the parchment so much that her nose was nearly brushing into the wet ink. Then his works sunk in, and her head shot up. "Wait, you can't be."

"I am." Toshiro stretched his legs out beneath the table. Hermione glanced over at his side of the workspace.

"No, you can't," she insisted. "I'm not even done with _Potions_ yet."

"Did it yesterday." Toshiro smiled at her, ignoring her irritated scowl. "Would you like some help?"

"Shove off," she muttered. Toshiro blinked.

"Whoa, Weasley's getting to you."

"Shut up."

A commotion by the portrait hole caught their attention. Most of the occupants of Gryffindor Tower were gathered around something, exclaiming and shouting. Toshiro frowned and cast a silent bubble charm around the table. The din instantly muted.

"Thanks," Hermione said, peering over at the crowd. "What's going on?"

Toshiro studied the mass of children for a moment. "Someone enchanted the end of the giant squid's tentacles to roller blades," he said deadpan; "and now the thing's ice-skating on the surface of the lake."

"Really?"

Hermione was staring at him with wide eyes. He shrugged.

"Maybe. It's possible, I suppose. These people are weird."

Finally realizing he was joking, Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just shut up."

"Fine, I'll leave you to your stroke." Getting up, he swung his bag over his shoulder and left a confused Granger behind.

"Stroke?" she murmured. "What stroke?" After puzzling it over for a few more minutes, she shrugged. "Oh well."

"Hey, what's going on?" Toshiro asked a random student. The boy turned and practically yelled, "Harry's got a Firebolt!"

"Oh, so McGonagall finally coughed it up, huh?" he said.

"What?" the nondescript boy asked. Toshiro shrugged.

"Nothing. Ignore me."

Mystery solved, Toshiro trudged up the stairs to deposit his bag beside his bed. He collapsed onto it and groaned into the mattress. It was a wordless groan, meant to convey his frustration and tiredness and _boredom_ all in a single syllable: "Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh."

He was just starting to drift off when a faint scream reached his ears. Reacting more on instinct than coherent thought, he pushed off the bed and darted downstairs. Turning the corner to the common room, he froze.

There, just where he had left her half an hour before, was Hermione. But now, instead of working feverously on some paper due the next week, she was standing several feet away from the table, staring at it in slack-jawed amazement. In fact, most of the entire Gryffindor population was doing the same thing.

For there on the table, was her paper. On fire.

"Huh," Toshiro said.

* * *

When Harry trudged in from Quidditch practice covered head to toe in mud and grinning widely, Toshiro knew the Firebolt was a success. He ought to send a letter to Black.

He also knew that their tri-weekly sessions in the Room of Requirement – which had only been going on for a week and therefore had no visible results yet – would be put on halt until the Ravenclaw/Gryffindor game was over with. For some reason, sports were more important than studies here. He had never understood humans' fascination with sports; Soul Society didn't have organized sports, as far as he was aware. It wasn't as if they needed the exercise, in any case. Hollows kept them fit enough.

"Good practice?" he asked anyway, marking his spot in his book with a finger. Harry nodded at him, then wiped his eyes free of mud. Toshiro focused on this. "How'd you get so dirty? It's winter."

Harry blinked, and appeared to think this over. "I…don't know," he said slowly. "It just happened."

"It just happened," Toshiro repeated. "You just 'happened' to scoop the snow off the ground and take a bath in the mud?"

"No, course not. I've never got why people get mud baths."

Ron, who had wandered over to a forgotten collection of Chocolate Frog cards on a table, looked up at this. "Wait – People take baths in mud?"

"Yes," Toshiro sighed. Matsumoto had gone through a phase of believing mud-baths were the end-all be-all for beauty treatment and keeping her youthful appearance. He believed she only did it because he wouldn't allow her in the office after getting one of her treatments.

"Brilliant," Ron said, getting a crafty look in his eye.

"Won't work," Toshiro said immediately. "Your mother won't even let you in the house."

Ron's face fell.

* * *

Quidditch, Toshiro came to conclude, was simply a chance to foster grievances between the houses. Honestly, he was surprised there wasn't more fighting. One would think that Slytherin and Gryffindor would do more to recruit Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff to their sides. But no. They kept it between themselves. How boring. So many lost opportunities.

The most interesting thing that happened during the match was Harry sending a streak of something silvery at the 'dementors' just before catching the Snitch.

Although, Wood screaming at Harry to knock Cho off her broom was quite amusing as well.

The party afterwards, he could do very well without. It was loud, went long into the night, and simply created a mess in the common room. The older students somehow smuggled in alcohol, though Percy quickly shut that down by throwing all the bottles he could find out the window. Needless to say, much revenge was plotted against him.

The next morning, Toshiro was the first out (as usual) and very nearly tripped over Neville curled up in the hallway outside. He was using his cloak as a pillow, but was as cold as the stone under him. Toshiro helped him up and brought him back into the common room, glaring at Sir Cadogan.

He knew Neville needed to warm up, but he absolutely _refused_ to help unbutton his robes so he could take a warm bath. The poor boy was shivering so badly that his fingers weren't able to grasp the buttons. Toshiro ended up casting a warming spell on his cloak, wrapping him up in it, and sitting him down by the fire. Neville was so desperate for warmth that he scooted as close as he could possibly get to the fire, making Toshiro nervous as he watched the corner of the cloak get dangerously close to the flames.

Once the boy had warmed up enough to speak without stuttering every letter, he explained that he'd managed to get Sir Cadogan to give up a list of the week's passwords, but in the excitement of the game Neville had left it on his bed. The portrait wouldn't let him in, so he'd had to spend the night outside.

"Why didn't you go to Professor McGonagall, or the infirmary?" Toshiro asked. He received a blank stare in return.

Muttering in Japanese about the simplemindedness of thirteen year olds, Toshiro then dragged Neville down to McGonagall's office and had him repeat his story. He could practically see the witch's hackles rise as she listened. After, she patted Neville's hand, told him not to worry about a thing, and stormed out of the office. Toshiro and Neville glanced at each other and went to breakfast.

That night, the Fat Lady had been restored to her rightful place (security detail denied, considering Black was accounted for and nowhere near the castle) and Sir Cadogan was transferred back to the seventh floor.

* * *

Very little happened the next week. The most interesting thing to occur was Thursday night outside the Great Hall, when a seventh year dumped his sixth year girlfriend. The shouts and curses could clearly be heard inside, and the entire student population of Hogwarts went silent in order to listen better. When a particularly colorful string of words floated through, sending giggles throughout the student body, Snape strode down the middle aisle with a sour expression and opened the doors.

"If you two cannot control your hormones quietly, do it elsewhere. Some of us wish to enjoy what is remaining in the day without being forced to listen to two teenagers screeching at each other."

He then slammed the doors shut and took his seat. Dumbledore sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. McGonagall was glaring at Snape, and Sprout was giggling quietly.

"It's a sign!" Trelawney suddenly yelled, making everyone jump and turn to stare at her. "The end of their relationship shall spell doom for us all!"

McGonagall sighed and pulled her down into her seat. "Yes, dear, I'm sure it will. Now please sit down and eat your pudding."

* * *

Toshiro decided to go with Hermione to Hogsmeade that Saturday. Ron had convinced Harry to go again under the Invisibility Cloak, and the witch firmly disagreed. As a result, she wanted nothing to do with them until tomorrow, and Toshiro thought it wasn't right to let her go alone.

They had a very pleasant day, despite the fact that snow still covered the ground and Hermione was shivering by the time they'd gotten halfway there. Toshiro wordlessly handed over his cloak, and she gratefully chattered her teeth at him.

They spent the first hour in the Three Broomsticks getting Hermione warmed up. Then she declared that she was running low on ink, so they made a pit stop at a bookstore, where they got distracted for several hours before getting kicked out by the owner shouting: "It's not a damn library!"

By this point Hermione was getting tired and Toshiro was developing a headache, so they headed back to the castle. Just as they passed the gates, an owl swooped down and dropped a letter in front of them. Grumbling, Hermione picked it up and hurried inside while Toshiro shooed off the owl, which wanted payment. With no food on him, Toshiro made a dash for the door, and caught up with his friend just as Malfoy gleefully told a group of Slytherins how "Snape's going to kick Potter's arse!"

"They should have listened to you," Toshiro muttered, and the pair walked away.

Hermione's answering snort turned into a gasp as she read the letter.

"What? What is it?" Toshiro asked, and took the letter as her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, poor Buckbeak," he said, then stared awkwardly at Hermione as she sniffled and brushed away tears. _"Um,"_ he said to Hyourinmaru; _"do I hug her?"_

The dragon's only reply was a rumbling laugh.

* * *

The visit to Hagrid was just as depressing as Toshiro had feared it would be. The good news was that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had made up and were on good terms. The even better news was that Hermione slapped Malfoy. In the face.

The rest of February and March had passed with very little excitement. Ron was now fourteen, and on his birthday his brothers came together with surprising solidarity and presented him with the news that their father was trying – _trying_ , they stressed – to secure them tickets for this year's Quidditch World Cup. Ron, after sitting in a dazed silence for several minutes, went completely insane. When they finally calmed him down, he was practically foaming at the mouth.

The twins' sixteenth birthday was – ironically – on April 1st, and they celebrated it with abandon. The teachers, having endured years of the Weasley twins already, were resigned to their fates.

But, even as the days marched on and the days grew longer, Buckbeak's execution grew closer. Care of Magical Creatures became increasingly awkward, as the hippogriff was kept to the large pen next to the Forbidden Forest – an order from the Ministry so it couldn't get away, though Toshiro suspected they hadn't even thought about the fact that it had wings and it could just _fly_ away – and every time Hagrid looked at it he burst into tears. It was with dread that they now walked to his hut for class, for Malfoy refused to be silent, despite the Gryffindors all glaring at him.

The homework load was steadily increasing as finals loomed closer. The teachers all seemed to have collectively decided to start piling work on them, and even Toshiro was feeling the strain. He was glad to have the Time-Turner, otherwise he felt like he would never get everything he needed done. Now that the dementors had left the school, he could walk the grounds freely without worrying about them. It also gave him plenty of space to work, so he could use the Time-Turner whenever he needed to finish up homework. All he had to do was move to a new spot every time and make sure he never ran into himself.

Hermione, however, had a small breakdown. She missed Charms (which everyone agreed that she should have come to, considering they had been learning Cheering Charms) and was found sleeping with an Arithmancy book as a pillow. Toshiro wanted to use the charm on her to boost her spirits, but she wouldn't allow him to preform it on her – "What if I become addicted to it?" she asked, voice high with sleep deprivation – and he felt slightly bad about doing it behind her back.

* * *

Something was bothering Harry. Toshiro had told him to go ask a teacher if he was curious, but he'd almost forgotten about it. Then, one late night in the common room, he was sitting with a group of third years when they had heard some of the older students messing around. One of the boys had just stumbled in past curfew, clothes and hair rumpled and a silly grin on his face. His friends slapped his back, all talking at once.

"D'ya get that pussy?" one of the boys asked, and the seventh year Head Girl (who was sitting across the room, mind) immediately threw a book at him.

"Language!" she reprimanded, gesturing in the younger students' direction. The older boys put up a silencing spell and continued talking.

The third years, meanwhile, exchanged clueless glances and shrugged.

So, after Transfiguration the next day, Harry decided to stay late. He waved the others on, saying that he would catch up with them. Then he approached McGonagall's desk.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" she asked, taking a sip of tea. Harry gathered his courage.

"Professor, what's a pussy?"

McGonagall's arm jolted, and she dropped her tea into her lap.

* * *

"It has come to our attention," Dumbledore announced, looking out across the Great Hall, expression uncharacteristically uncomfortable; "that some of you may be, erm, _lacking_ in some knowledge about certain…aspects of growing up."

Toshiro made a face and looked around.

"The hell's he talking about?" he heard a fourth year ask. His friend shrugged.

The older students, meanwhile, were looking horrified.

"So we have decided to…hold a class to educate you about…" Dumbledore trailed off, looking for all the world like he just wanted to disappear. But that couldn't be right. He was a great wizard. He doesn't run. " _You_ ," he finished lamely.

Toshiro frowned, staring at the Head Table as he thought. All the Professors looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Madam Pomfrey will be giving the…talk…to each house and year in the hospital wing. A schedule will be posted on the common room boards."

A cold dread settled over Toshiro. A talk…no…he can't mean… _No! This can't be happening!_

Murmurs spread across the Hall as the students realized just what was about to happen.

"Hitsugaya, what's wrong? Do you know what he means?" Hermione asked, seeing his stricken expression. He turned haunted eyes on her.

"I'm going back to Japan," he whispered.


	20. Chapter 20

**Okay, yeah, this took a while, but I have many reasons, none of which I will go into here, most simply 'cause I doubt most of you care.**

 **2016 is over! Yay! That horrible, horrible year is over. Here's to hoping for a better 2017!**

 _ **VERY IMPORTANT! READ THE BOTTOM NOTE! IT PERTAINS TO THE STORY!**_

 **Disclaimer: All proper rights for Bleach and Harry Potter go to their respective owners.**

* * *

The final match of the Quidditch season was Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. They were playing for the Cup, which would engender splendid rivalries even if one of the participants was Hufflepuff, but since the two houses with the greatest animosity between them were playing, tensions were at an all-time high. Hitsugaya did not see it, but apparently a Gryffindor and a Slytherin got in a nasty fight which landed them in the hospital wing with leeks in their ears.

Inoue would be proud.

Per Oliver Wood's order, the whole of the Gryffindor house was following Harry wherever he went, making it impossible for anyone to get to class on time. Eventually, Toshiro and Hermione abandoned him and struck out on their own. The Slytherins weren't nearly so eager to trap them when they had a much bigger prize in sight.

The night before the game, Toshiro retreated to the safety of the dorms early. With the curtains around his bed closed, all the nervous chatter from the common room was cut off, and he could type out his report to Soul Society in peace. There was very little to say, so he was done quickly, and decided to meditate. Lying down, he took a deep breath and cleared his thoughts.

Frost crept through his mind, biting at the edges of his consciousness and tugging him down, down, down. Toshiro did not fight it, sensing no danger from the creeping tongues of ice. It was such a cold that he'd never felt before, purer and sharper than even the most bitter of hailstorms. It almost seemed familiar, in the way that a person once introduced and long forgotten can stir up old memories. He sank deeper, trusting the ice to lead him where it would.

He didn't know how long he was pulled down, but finally his feet touched something solid and the darkness lifted. He was in a place much like his own inner world, but more primal somehow. There were no brittle trees, no mountains of stone. There was only ice, and snow, and frozen waves of dark water swept up into looming maws teeming with jagged teeth. A wind was blowing, catching up the top layer of powdered snow and tossing it into his face. Toshiro turned his back to the wind. His eyes swept the frozen sea.

The wind ceased its assault and circled him, studying him. It pulled at his clothes, rustled his hair, brushed against his skin. It was very soft.

Finally it seemed satisfied, and pulled away. Scraping across the ground, it kicked up puffs of snow in a path. Toshiro stepped forward, following the wind.

The wind led him around several frozen waves and up a crest only to slide down the backside. Hitsugaya was sure that if his zanpakuto was not ice-based, he would have slipped and broken his neck before he got three feet.

And then he climbed up another ridge and saw her.

She was sitting – lounging, really – on a throne made entirely of ice. It was graceful and deadly, gleaming in an unseen sun.

And the woman on it… Toshiro had no words. She was beautiful, in an ethereal, unearthly sort of way. She was wearing a blue silk dress that accentuated her figure. Her hair, long and shining, curled lightly as it fell past her shoulders and framed her face. Her chin lifted slightly.

"Come," she said, and her voice seemed to echo with years untold. Toshiro took long, slow steps toward her, not understanding what was going on.

Finally he stood before her. Cold reiatsu came off her in waves, freezing the very air around her. She looked him over with silver eyes that had no pupil. "Tell me your name, prince."

Hitsugaya shook out of his stupor. "I am not a prince."

"No?" She raised an eyebrow. "Then I suppose you do not know who I am."

It was not a question, and he felt no need to answer.

"Then we shall have to rectify this situation."

She stood with all the grace of her appearance and reached out to him. He tensed, but did not move away; he could feel the raw power she contained, but did not sense that she meant him harm. Her fingers were millimeters away from his skin when he was savagely ripped away from the world of ice and hurled back into his body. Toshiro jolted and sucked in a long breath, reeling.

There was someone standing beside him, shaking his shoulder. It took him a moment to recognize the figure as Potter, wide-eyed and terrified.

"She was right, she was right," he was babbling, his voice high-pitched. "It's here, it's here."

Toshiro sat up and ran one trembling hand over his face. He clenched his hands into fists to stop the shaking. "Potter, slow down. Who was right? What is here?"

"It's the Grim! Look! The Grim!" Harry bodily hauled him out of bed to stand in front of the window. He pointed. "There!"

Toshiro followed his finger and sighed. "Potter, that is not a Grim. It is just a Hollow."

Harry pulled up short. "A H-Hollow?"

"Yes." Toshiro groaned and reached into the nightstand for a soul candy. "Stay here. I'll take care of it."

He swallowed the candy and gave his gigai orders to stay in bed. It dove under the covers and pulled the sheets over its head. Toshiro left Harry staring at it in fascination as he opened the window and stepped out. The chilled night air hit his skin and made him shiver.

 _Who was she?_ he wondered.

* * *

"What did I miss?" Hitsugaya pushed past several cheering Gryffindors with red and gold face paint.

"We're up!" Even Hermione, who was decidedly uninterested in Quidditch, was unable to sit still. "We're win – _Stay on your own broom, you bastard!_ "

Hitsugaya's eyebrows shot up, but he held his tongue.

The sheer number of people and the intensity of their emotions in the small area of the Quidditch stands was giving off enough magical energy to attract Hollows even miles away, and Hitsugaya had spent a majority of the morning bringing down the hungry predators. As such, he had missed most of the game, though he wasn't overly concerned with that.

" _Go Katie, go!_ " The crowd started cheering as the Gryffindor Chaser snatched up the Quaffle and zoomed across the field. The chanting disintegrated into an unintelligible roar as the girl sped around several Slytherins, ever closer to the hoops.

The game lasted for only another few minutes. With a determined look, Harry scattered the Slytherins ganging up on a Gryffindor Chaser, then made an abrupt U-turn and hurtled across the field to where Malfoy was reaching for the glittering Snitch. He knocked the other boy out of the way and waved his hand triumphantly, the sun glinting off the golden ball.

Instantly, the magical energy skyrocketed, and Toshiro winced as he felt yet another Hollow arrive, making its way swiftly to the castle. As he left to go take care of it, his phone beeped, and he took a moment to glance at the screen before holding it up to his ear.

 **"Captain Hitsugaya."**

 **"We have detected an enormous spike in spiritual pressure,"** the Twelfth Division scientist said, getting immediately to the point. **"Do you know what is causing it?"**

Hitsugaya didn't answer right away, having spotted the Hollow below him. It was of low intelligence and reiatsu, and it was a simple task to slice its mask in two even with his phone in one hand. Landing on the ground, he finally responded to the officer's question. **"Extreme emotions in a concentrated area."**

 **"Caused by what?"**

Hitsugaya sheathed his sword. **"Sports,"** he replied, voice dry. There was a brief pause as the scientist on the other end mulled it over.

 **"Very well,"** was his clipped response before the connection was severed.

* * *

Tensions ran high after the Quidditch game. The weather turned warm as finals approached, beckoning to anxious students who wanted nothing more than to be outside. Instead they were stuck in the castle studying.

Hermione, being the stressed person she was, was on the verge of panicking. She had made herself a schedule of finals, and could often be found staring at it with a dazed, empty look. Books and parchment were spread out in a half-circle on the table before her, the Arithmancy textbook open with formula sheet stuck into the binding. It covered a portion of her Astronomy worksheets and a diagram that showed the relationship between time and angle.

The other students were just as stressed over their own work, and the Gryffindor common room had a much tenser atmosphere than normal. Harry and Ron, realizing just how much work they had to do in a very small time frame, were struck with the horror and self-loathing only procrastinators could know, and claimed a table from a pair of first-years to study.

Hitsugaya, meanwhile, watched all of this play out with amusement. Being not of the living world and having no stakes in his grades was a huge benefit just about now. He gave his notes a cursory glance-over, of course, to refresh his memory on the topics covered near the beginning of the year, but was relaxed about the whole thing. Hermione couldn't understand his uncaring attitude.

"How can you _not_ be stressed?" she asked, transfiguring a crumpled paper into a ball that she then proceeded to throw at his head. He caught it easily and rolled it across the table back to her. "Do you even _know_ how many classes we have!"

During the days leading up to finals, Hitsugaya marked a noticeable difference in Harry. He was tenser, unable to concentrate during meditation classes. His reiatsu was unstable, and fluctuated without warning whenever his emotions rose.

Now, this wouldn't normally be an issue for a Shinigami under his command. He would simply order him to train for several hours and burn off the excess reiatsu that had built up in his system. But Harry was not a Shinigami, and the best Toshiro could do was drag the boy to the Room of Requirements for an impromptu lesson the Sunday before finals week.

"I have to study!" the boy protested, dragging his feet. Hitsugaya kept a solid grip on his wrist and plowed on. "Come on, just–"

"If you don't let it out now, it will explode during finals," Hitsugaya interrupted. "Sit down and meditate. You will feel better, I promise."

Harry plopped down on a cushion and glared up at the Captain. "Don't see why this matters," he grumbled. "I haven't even been able to hear my companion."

"It often takes decades for a Shinigami to hear his zanpakuto," Hitsugaya reassured, sitting with his back against a wall. "Be patient."

Harry groaned but obeyed, straightening his spine. Hitsugaya watched him for several minutes, making sure he was doing everything correctly, before closing his eyes. He had yet to return to the frozen ocean with that woman, despite how long he meditated. He still had no idea who or what she was, or how she had gotten into his inner world without him knowing. The Twelfth Division had been just as baffled as him, though they showed it by blustering and being even more pretentious than normal.

Releasing a soft breath, Hitsugaya was opening his eyes when he felt a sudden spike in Harry's reiatsu. Looking over, he saw that the boy had gone rigid, his fingers digging into his knees. Concerned, he placed a hand on the ground to boost himself up when the reiatsu twisted.

It was and was not Potter's reiatsu, and the strange feeling made Hitsugaya freeze. It washed over his senses, making his stomach churn and a burning feeling rise in the back of his throat. The reiatsu was tainted, not in the way a Hollow's presence felt corrupted and broken, but…unnatural, bound to the pure pressure of Harry's reiatsu. The feeling made Hitsugaya gag.

But just as quickly as it came, it faded away, leaving a sickly taint to the air. He slowly reached into his pocket and took out his soul phone. He dialed and lifted it to his ear.

 **"Captain Hitsugaya,"** a surprised voice said.

 **"I have something you are going to want to analyze,"** he responded.

* * *

"Is he still-"

"Yep."

Harry sunk down in his chair and looked over the top of his book. Across the room, Toshiro appeared focused, staring at the textbook propped up on a pile of old essays, but every so often he would glance up at Harry. He did this now, and his eyes were stormy and unhappy. They quickly flicked down again.

Harry was starting to get uncomfortable. He had never seen the boy in this mood; every inch of his being was radiating a clear message for everyone to _stay away._ There was obviously something he was pissed at; Harry just hoped it didn't have anything to do with him.

"He's making me nervous," Ron whispered. "I can't study. I _need_ to study. 'Mione, tell him to stop."

"Fix your own problems, Ronald. I'm not your mother."

"Thank God for that."

"Should we talk to him?" Harry asked. He really should be focusing on his own studies, but the murderous looks he was being shot were _slightly_ distracting. "He looks like he needs a hug."

"Do you _want_ to die?"

"Babies," Hermione muttered, and slammed her books shut. "C'mon, we need to get to class."

Ron blanched. "Yeah, I would - I would _really_ love to get out of here, but there's a small problem."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, it's your own fault you haven't studied. I _told_ you-"

"Not that!" Ron snapped. He pointed at Toshiro. "He's sitting by the door!"

Hermione glared at him for several seconds. " _Babies!_ " she said emphatically, turned on her heel, and stalked out.

Harry and Ron stared after her. "She just left us here…" Harry said mournfully.

"And she left her schedule," Ron noted, picking up a parchment. He peered at it. "How's she going to sit for Transfiguration _and_ Arithmancy at the same time?"

"Ron, we're in a _magic_ school."

"What does that have to do with- Oh."

* * *

When his first exam, Transfiguration, rolled around, Hitsugaya was a tad distracted. The class was spread out all around the room with various objects on the desks in front of them. They had just completed the written portion of the exam, and McGonagall was collecting the parchments. She glanced over his and gave him a questioning look. He shrugged and scratched his nose.

Potter was sitting near the front of the room, and Hitsugaya was only half-focused on his paper. The other half was on monitoring the boy's reiatsu, and as a result he had written several answers in Japanese before realizing his mistake and crossing the characters out, squeezing his English answer in tiny script where he could. He didn't envy whoever had to grade it.

McGonagall shook her head and moved on. Throughout the next hour of practical spellwork, Hitsugaya did his best to focus, though he suspected his tortoise didn't survive its transformation. It wasn't moving, at any rate.

Arithmancy was simple, but by Charms after lunch he was getting anxious. The Twelfth Division hadn't responded with their analysis of Potter's reiatsu yet, and Hitsugaya was worried that the added stress of finals would cause it to leak. He was so tense that, when Harry closed his eyes before Charms to calm himself, Hitsugaya knocked into his shoulder to keep him from accessing his power, making him stumble.

"Hey!" Harry cried, glaring at Hitsugaya's back as he disappeared into the class. "Rude."

"Wonder what that was for," Ron mumbled as they settled into their seats.

As suspected, Flitwick tested them on Cheering Charms. Other than Harry accidentally overpowering his spell and causing Ron to have to sit out for an hour, all went smoothly.

Care of Magical Creatures was dull. Very dull. Hagrid was on the verge of tears as he spoke to the Trio about Buckbeak's upcoming execution. Hitsugaya sat apart from the others with his flobberworm, reading and checking his soul phone every few seconds. Nothing.

Snape assigned them the Confusing Concoction as their final. Even the Slytherins were tense.

They had Astronomy at midnight, History of Magic in the morning, Herbology Wednesday afternoon, and Defense Against the Dark Arts Thursday morning, where they ran through what amounted to an obstacle course filled with all the creatures they'd learned about over the year. The hinkypunk still held its grudge against Hitsugaya.

Hermione and Hitsugaya had Muggle Studies last, while Harry and Ron attended Divination. All four met in the common room, where exhausted Gryffindors were crashed on every available surface. A few were even sprawled out on the floor, not having the energy to conjure up a chair to sit on.

"That was hell," Ron said.

"Mm," they agreed.

* * *

The note from Hagrid saying that Buckbeak had lost the appeal and was set to be executed at sunset marked a low point in the evening. Being the troublemakers that they were, the Trio insisted on retrieving the Invisibility Cloak and going to see Hagrid, despite the man's express wish for them not to come. Hitsugaya shook his head and headed up to the Astronomy Tower to see if he could get better reception. Perhaps that was the problem.

But no. No reply.

The three came back just after sunset, looking lost and dazed. Hitsugaya looked up from the report he was typing. "They let you stay?" he asked incredulously. Hermione shook her head and answered once it became clear the other two weren't going to say anything.

"Hagrid got us out the back. We didn't see...we heard…"

"They killed him," Harry put in suddenly. "How could they kill him? He didn't _do_ anything!"

 _Well, technically…_ Deciding not to voice that thought, Hitsugaya tapped 'send' and closed his phone. "Politics, Potter," he said. "It doesn't matter that it was Malfoy's fault in the first place. What matters is that his father is influential and Hagrid is not. That is all."

He climbed the stairs to the dormitory, leaving behind three angry children.

* * *

The end of exams meant freedom for all students. The Hogsmeade visit was taken full advantage of by the students able to attend. Ron and Hermione didn't feel like going, what with Buckbeak's execution still weighing heavily on their minds, and Harry didn't want to go, even if he could. They decided to wander the grounds in search of some peace. Toshiro stayed inside, seeking shelter from the heat. He walked past a group of second-year Slytherins when he overheard part of their conversation.

"...a _werewolf_ , though! How was he even allowed to come here?"

"Didn't think they were real…"

"Wonder if he bit anyone, that's why he's fired."

"Think fairies are real, too?"

Hitsugaya immediately redirected his steps. There was only one person they could be talking about.

Professor Lupin was packing when he arrived. The door was standing open, so the Captain leaned against the frame for a moment, taking in the bare walls and drained tank where the grindylow used to be.

"You don't seem surprised," Lupin said suddenly, and turned around. He was holding the Marauder's Map in one hand, while the other was using his wand to direct instruments and odd objects into his suitcases.

"I am not surprised that your secret was revealed, I am just unsure how," Hitsugaya replied. Lupin sighed and set the map down on his desk.

"It got leaked from the Ministry. Apparently someone from the trial talked." He made a face. "And then Snape told the Slytherins."

"That is unfortunate," Hitsugaya agreed. He tilted his head and watched Lupin manually wrap a transparent orb in paper before sliding it carefully into a briefcase. "You were a good teacher."

Lupin looked up in surprise. "Really? I always got the impression you didn't care overly much."

"I've been told that." Hitsugaya was silent for several seconds, only to hear footsteps rapidly coming closer. He stepped smoothly to the side so that Harry didn't run headlong into him, and the boy instead skidded into the office, out of breath.

"You can't go!" he cried. "You're the best teacher we've ever had!"

As Lupin smiled kindly and replied, Hitsugaya slipped out of the office unnoticed.

* * *

The last week before end of term was largely useless and boring, other than the fact that Harry received a letter from Sirius Black informing him that he no longer had to stay with the mind healers and could go home. His offer to have Harry live with him still stood, though apparently he would have to clean up his home first and get the legal approval to transfer guardianship from the Dursley's. Meaning that Harry would still have to live with them for the summer.

This news simultaneously cheered up and depressed the boy. He had expected to live with Sirius that summer, but the idea of only being with the Dursley's for a few more months made him ecstatic.

Largely helped by their Quidditch season, Gryffindor managed to win the House Cup. The feast was rowdy, especially so since grades came out just a few hours before, and the Trio realized that they'd passed everything, even Potions.

During the train ride back, Hermione told them she was dropping Muggle Studies and would once again have a normal schedule. When asked if he would do the same, Hitsugaya gave a noncommittal answer and stared out the window. The others seemed to sense his mood and left him mostly alone, playing Exploding Snap on the other side of the compartment.

The night before, Hitsugaya had finally gotten a response. Effective immediately, he was no longer assigned to this mission. It was deemed too dangerous for the wizards to be exposed to any more of his reiatsu. From now on, the Wizarding World would be observed by the Stealth Force.

Toshiro didn't know how to feel about this. In some strange, twisted irony, he had come to like Hogwarts. It was very peaceful there, providing a safe haven from the stress and tension of Soul Society. And yet, he was looking forward to being a Captain once more, and going back to his normal duties. Hyourinmaru wasn't much help with sorting through his emotions, so he ended up watching the scenery fly by the whole trip.

When the train arrived at the station, Hitsugaya waited for the first wave of students to die out before getting off. The Trio was in line to leave into the Muggle station, so he joined them. Ron was telling Harry about the Quidditch game during the summer that his father had managed to get tickets for, and turned to Hitsugaya.

"It's going to be great! We're up at the very top, with the Minister, and we'll have the best view! You'll-" He broke off very suddenly, staring at the Captain. "You _are_ going, aren't you?"

Hitsugaya couldn't meet any of their eyes. Instead, he watched the line ahead. "No," he replied. The Trio exploded.

"What?! Why?"

"You're not going?!"

" _I'm_ going, and I don't even care about Quidditch!"

"C'mon, you have to go!" Ron protested loudly. "It's the World Cup! You can't miss it!"

Hitsugaya sighed. "I don't have a choice. I'm going back to Japan. I'm not coming back to Hogwarts."

They stared at him. "You're not…"

"But why?"

"I'm a transfer, remember? This was always temporary."

"But...you can't."

"I don't have a choice in the matter."

The wizard waved them through, and once on the other side of the brick wall, they moved over to the side. The Weasley's were several feet away, talking to Fred, George, Percy, and Ginny, and the Dursley's were huddled together as far from the barrier as they could get and still be within eyeshot. To Hitsugaya's surprise, Matsumoto was standing off to the side, looking as perky as usual. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and started making her way over. Hitsugaya turned quickly back to the group.

"I apologize for the suddenness, but I have to go."

Matsumoto reached them then, but surprisingly refrained from suffocating him in her chest, seeing the group's low mood. "All ready to go?" she asked.

"Ready." Hitsugaya nodded a goodbye and turned away.

"Wait!"

Hermione was suddenly hugging him tightly. "You don't just get to go without a hug," she said. Hitsugaya was going to protest, but then he heard the waver in her voice and saw how suspiciously bright her eyes were. He sighed and relented, putting one arm around her in a sort of hug before backing away.

"Yeah, where'd you think you're going?" Ron came up and punched his shoulder. "Maybe we'll go and visit you in Japan sometime."

"Maybe."

Harry lifted his hand awkwardly, to do what Hitsugaya suspected even the boy didn't know. It dropped to his side. "We'll miss you," he said. Hitsugaya regarded him for a moment before nodding.

"Keep working on your control. Perhaps it will be of use to you one day."

"Yeah," Harry grinned. "Doubt You-Know-Who'll be expecting that!"

"Goodbye." Hitsugaya walked away, and this time no one stopped him.

* * *

"Here we are, just as you left it." Matsumoto slid open the office door. Hitsugaya walked in, pleasantly surprised to find that it was clean, without paperwork or sake bottles strewn all over.

"The Division's all in order," his Vice-Captain continued, going over to her desk to pick up a folder. "We got fewer new recruits this year than normal, but that's to be expected, with you gone for so long. Everything else is normal, though."

Hitsugaya gave the folder only a quick glance before setting it on his desk. He placed Hyourinmaru on its stand, then went outside to the railing. It overlooked the courtyard, and he could see the Division's Shinigami milling about. They had greeted him when he first walked through the doors, and now things were settling down.

Matsumoto leaned up against the rail next to him. She said nothing, even though he could see that she was full to the brim with questions. But thankfully, she kept silent.

A sudden _boom_ made them both jump. Across the courtyard, Shinigami started streaming out of the kitchens, coughing and waving their hands to clear the smoke that was drifting out of the doors and windows. A seated officer went up to a group of what were obviously new recruits, coughing.

"You idiots! Don't you - _cough_ \- know not to use Ki - _cough_ \- do indoors?"

Hitsugaya smirked. "Yup. Everything's back to normal."

* * *

 **So, I had this whole, sappy author's note that I wrote first, but then I decided to get rid of it. So, here's the news: This story is done. As you probably noticed. It will also be receiving a massive, _massive_ overhaul. I'll keep this one up, but I will be writing and posting a redone version, starting in fourth or fifth year.**

 **Also, I have an idea of a scene where Hitsugaya comes back during the final battle of Hogwarts for soul burials. Might post it. We'll see.**

 **So, yeah. Thank you all for staying with the story, and I hope you'll come back to check out the new one. It'll be up...sometime.**


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